


Differentiate

by lunambulism



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: (Possibly) Irregular Updates, Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character study to some extent, Course Language, Denial, Developing Relationships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Humor, James Bonding, M/M, Retrograde Amnesia, Slow Build Shizaya, Slow(ish) build, Split Personalities (Dissociative Identity Disorder), Undercover shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunambulism/pseuds/lunambulism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <i>Sometimes, the voices in your mind aren’t just anxiety.</i><br/>  </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foreshadow

**Author's Note:**

> 3/2 Edit: I've been reminded in chapter 9 that I should make some notes and clear up some confusion with DID here.  
> For fanfic purposes, the dissociative identity disorder that Izaya has isn't entirely accurate in description. In reality, the person who's suffering from DID isn't usually aware of a split personality and can be completely oblivious to it unless pointed out.  
> The mental disorder is also accompanied by the inability to recall personal information, along with losing track of time, etcetc.  
> I would like to explain more, but it's probably better to research it online to understand the condition more. 
> 
> As you can seeeee... I've changed a lot of these factors and erased some completely, because the entire backdrop plot of this fic is Izaya being a little shit in denial (but I still love him) with something out of the ordinary happening to him or something.
> 
> 9/2 Edit: I'm gOING BACK AND FORTH ON THIS TOPIC HAHA I'M SORRY  
> So a kind soul has informed me that DID alts and the main can actually communicate - sort of - within the mind, but normally only when the main has accepted the alt as part of him/her(?)  
> Still a bit fuzzy on specifics but, errr, piece together what you can. I'm not going to change the way the altered DID Izaya has here is described, because, as I've mentioned before, it's kind of essential to his character build.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the voices in your head aren't just anxiety.

One.

-.-.-

 

_You’re a dreamer._

_Hah, you’ve slipped off somewhere, you’ve cracked the edge._

_Isn’t that fun?_

 

-.-.-

[ _Kanra_ has entered the chat room]

[ _Kanra_ ]: Hello, hello, everyone~! It’s me, Kanra! Yoo-hoo!

[ _Kanra_ ]: Oh dear, no one’s online, hm? Oh that’s such a tragedy! An absolute disaster! I’m so lonely!

[ _Kanra_ ]: ...Ah, but, but, but, have you all heard..? I have some very interesting news for you all, like always, but this one is extra special!

[ _Kanra_ ]: ..Orihara Izaya is gone.

[The chat log has been cleared]

[ _Kanra_ has left the chat room]

 

[There is no one in the chat room]

-.-.-

“Hey, Celty, it’s been pretty quiet these few days, huh?” Shinra chirped, flipping through a medical book ‘for dummies’. His housemate, currently in the kitchen preparing something along the lines of seafood udon and grilled salmon poked her hea- her _imaginary_ head around the corner and held up a black PDA.

[It has, Shinra, why do you ask? I like it better this way.]

 

It’s abnormal.

 

“I know you do, darling,” The young doctor cracked a smile, “I mean, I get to spend more time from the nasty underground business, spend more time with you, love, and..” He held a finger up to his chin in thought, “Ah, and Shizuo hasn’t been coming around lately too much so less weight for me.”

Silence.

[Oh, he hasn’t], Celty types a bit slower than usual, [Did anything happen to Izaya-kun?]

 

Maybe, yes, maybe.

 

Shinra hums, and his eyes flicker back up to the PDA – [Why are you so worried anyways, Shinra?] – and a sigh pushes against his chest, “I actually don’t know. I’ve got this sinking feeling in my chest. Maybe doctor’s intuition?” He grins, and pulls out the dining table with a clack and takes a seat. Celty sits down opposite him. “Ah, this looks so good!” The doctor positively beams, “Thank you for the meal.”

-.-.-

Yagiri Namie was terribly tense this morning.

There wasn’t a reason why – there _shouldn’t_.

But then, try telling yourself that when your employer has disappeared for a week with no sign of him yet you’re coming to work every day in slight hopes of that bastard coming through the front doors and screaming that you’ve been pranked.

 

Or maybe it was the fact that there’s an air of eeriness, and the place somehow feels hollow, feels dead without Izaya – who always sitting in that chair being a bastard the moment she took even a single step into the room, or how there was a cup of coffee – black, no sugar, no sweetener, no milk – sitting on her employer’s desk untouched, stained around the inside edge of the cup. Papers were scattered around here and there in an unartistic mess. Work files from last week.

Namie shivers.

 

_Click._

 

“..Ah, Namie-chan, you’re here already?” Something chirruped behind the secretary, “Come on, what are you standing there idly for, hm?”

 _Don’t turn around. That’s not him,_ she tells herself, _that can’t be him._

“ _Namie-chan_?” The voice drags out the syllables of her name teasingly.

 

She’s noticed, of course, that something’s been wrong with him since a few weeks ago, and that it’s been niggling at the back of her mind for along time, whether she should ask her, if she should care, but her pride always won ahead.

 

“Who is this?” It was more of a demand for identification than it was a question.

“So rude, I’m your favourite employer, aren’t I? The one who sends you all these nice little paychecks,” The fake Izaya smiles as he stands in front of Namie.

 

The long-haired woman’s eyes only narrow further, “Cut the crap,” She challenged, “If you’re my employer, what’s my name listed as on your contact list?”

 

The apparent Izaya looked lost for a second, crossed his arms – even pouted – and hummed for two seconds, groaned and pulled out a white IPhone from his coat pocket. The 16-digit lock is typed in so fast they sound like one long _click_.

 

“‘Pizza Delivery’, huh?” He snickered, “That’s cute, my little Izaya-chan,” And slipped the phone into his pocket and looked up at the twitching scowl Namie wore.

“And you’re sharp. So, questioning time, hm?”

“Who are you?”

Izaya sighed, “That’s so straight – and mean, but I suppose I’ll hand it over,” He held his hands outwards and Namie took a small step back, “The internet is such a magnificent thing! All these people, these humans, trying to gain other’s trust and forge bonds and such and such over a virtual identity! That’s simply - what’s the word - fascinating!”

 

Namie gritted her teeth and sneers, something very unlike herself.

 

“Your and Izaya’s obsession with humans are absolute blasphemy to me, it’s disgusting, but that’s what makes you and him one of a kind, isn’t it..? But that still doesn’t help. Once again, _who are you_?”

‘He’ curls ‘his’ lips upwards even further.

“Have you ever heard of ‘ _split personalities’_ , Namie-chan?”

Namie sits as still as ice and steel eyes piercing.

“Well, I’m assuming you have,” There was a chuckle, and everything was so off about the way the figure spun around, the glint of the eyes, and the grin was way too mirthful than devilish, “Please, call me..” A pause. For emphasis? Consideration?

 

_“..Kanra.”_

-.-.-

[ _Tanaka_ Taro has entered the chat room]

[ _Setton_ has entered the chat room]

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: Setton-san, good evening.

[ _Setton_ ]: You too, it seems like us two are the ones who log on the most often.

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: Yeah, but Kanra-san used to be online lots as well. She’s been offline for a while, I’m kind of worried.

[ _Setton_ ]: Ah, yeah, and she used to bring loads of gossip. The chat seems a bit empty without her. Maybe she’s occupied with something..?

[ _Bakyura_ has entered the chat room]

[ _Setton_ ]: Bakyura-san, you’re on a lot now too.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Eh? Did I miss something?

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: Ah, no, no, we were just talking about how some of us aren’t as active on the chat room as before. I wonder why.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Oh, is this about Kanra? I personally don’t give two shits about her.

[ _Setton_ ]: Language, language.

[ _Setton_ ]: Ah, I’m sorry, I have to leave for a bit, my.. housemate’s having some trouble turning on the stove.

[ _Taro Tanaka_ ]: See you, Setton-san, good luck.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: I’m going to be looking on the news and if it shows anything about a burnt-down apartment I’m going to spam your chat, Setton.

[ _Setton_ has left the chat room]

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: Ahaha, but Bakyura-san..

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Yeah, what is it?

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: You know Kanra-san in real life, don’t you? Do you know if anything’s happened to her? She hasn’t been on for a week, I’m a bit concerned.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Nah, nothing. I don’t usually interact with her in real life. She’s sort of.. eccentric, if I had to describe her. Besides, she’s just a pain to me sometimes.

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: ..I see.

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: I wonder where she’s gone.

-.-.-

 

_I felt uncomfortable about this false, good will._

_Who’s the strange one? It certainly isn’t me._

 

-.-.-

One – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iM SORRY THE CHAPTERS WILL BE LONGER THAN JUST THIS 1K JUST BEAR WITH ME PLEASE


	2. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is shown is reality. What is remembered is illusion.

Two.

-.-.-

 

_The dazzling metropolis,_

_Continues to kill it’s shadows,_

_Will my voice also drown in it’s midst?_

 

-.-.-

“So,” Namie drawled as she flipped through newsletters, eyes only sometimes wandering over to the clock on the wall – 10 in the morning, “About Izaya..”

She’s decided that she can’t do anything too rash in this situation, given it’s still her boss, after all, even if just probably taken over by a separate subconsciousness. There was nothing else to do, but wait, and maybe contact a memory expert; her scarce research last night haven’t yielded much.

So she might as well try to know this side of him.

Kanra hummed as she skipped around the room, inspecting each and every corner before she realised that she was being addressed to, “Oh, Iza-chan? He’s sleeping, you shouldn’t wake him up, you know, he’ll get angry. Very angry,” Kanra chuckled, eyes twinkling, and Namie felt herself shift in her seat in disgust. This.. personality is possibly more disturbing than the real one.

 

“Ah, by the way, Mi-chan,” Hackles rose at the nickname, “Do you know why I’m like this? Why I can breathe normally and interact perfectly fine and live the way I am right now in this body?” Kanra laughs, twirling around and breathless and voice high and taut, “You’re curious, aren’t you? Curiosity always killed the cat.”

“I see you’re as manipulative as Izaya.”

 

“It’s because Iza-chan’s such a _coward_ ,” Kanra’s eyes glitter like jewels, the morning sunlight casting an orange glow into them, “That he allows me to be like this, isn’t it _wonderful_ , hm?”

 

“..What are you saying?” Namie asks, not moving even the slightest in her seat but her hand stops while in the middle of flipping the page, “Him? I won’t believe that.”

Kanra leans her head onto Namie’s, maroon-chocolate eyes scanning over the newsletter – dated three years ago, some human experimental laboratory up in flames – and waits for further reactions. Namie gives absolutely none.

 

“Well then, if there aren’t anymore questions, I guess I can explore around the city a bit, and maybe this _‘Ikebukuro’_ place Iza-chan talks so much about.” Kanra looks out the window longingly at the streets far below, before prancing over to the doorway, pulling on Izaya’s jacket on the way, “Geez, how does Iza-chan wear so much black every day? Orange is so much more cuter than some boring, boring shade like back,” Kanra grumbles half-heartedly, and the door swings shut.

 

(Shut up.)

 

Namie prays that Kanra won’t get into too much trouble, and picks up the phone to ring that doctor – what’s his name again oh – Shinra.

 

 _..Maybe later,_ Namie decides, listening to her suddenly rumbling stomach and she frowns, sets the paper down and stretches a bit, _breakfast first then._

She can’t help but frown at the growing worry for Izaya.

-.-.-

_“I-za-chan!” Kanra calls out from within her conciousness, “Open up!” She knocks once, twice, thrice on the imaginary door._

_“No,” A muffled voice growls back, cracked and deep, “Stop it, Kanra. I don’t want to see your stupid expressions on my face.”_

_“So stuffy, huh? You leave me to fend for myself in the big city! You told me that Ikebukuro’s supposed to be scary and full of monsters!” Kanra wails and pouts and kicks the door in a mock-tantrum._

_Izaya grunts, “I’m telling you again, Kanra, **stay out of there**.”_

-.-.-

_“Izaya-san?”_

 

Kanra tilts her head over to meet an innocent-looking high-school boy’s gaze boring into his own, “Ah, so this is ‘ _Tanaka Taro’_ -kun!” She grins, “Nice to meet’cha! You’re a bit different than I imagined you’d be, but that’s all fine, all fine! You match up exactly with the profile!”

“I-Izaya-kun?” Mikado looks slightly more startled now, “Are you alright?”

“Hm?” Kanra draws back and grins, “I’m fine, why do you ask?”

 

Mikado sputtered for a few seconds before taking a deep breath before looking at Kanra in the eye, “This better not be one of your jokes, Izaya-san.” His voice wavered slightly and his grip on his bag strap tightened, “Who are you?”

The other simply twitched her lips upwards and spun around playfully, hands in the pockets of the fur-trimmed jacket, and announces, “Why, I’m everyone’s favourite idol, _Kanra-chan_ , of course~!”

“..K-Kanra?”

“Yep! Hello? _Taro-kun_ , yoohoo!” She waves a hand near the other’s confused face.

Mikado took a step back, “I can’t trust you.”

“Oh, but you-”

 

_“Iza-ya-kun!”_

 

(Danger, run.)

 

“Hm?” Kanra spins around to come face-to-face with a post-box and a stream of white letters trailing right behind it, and she sidesteps it with some difficulty, “Woah, woah! What’s that for? That’s no way to treat such a fragile lady like me! I’ll have you sued for gender discrimination, hmph, hmph!”

“ _Fragile lady my ass_!” Shizuo roars, “You delusional flea! For the last time, get the _fuck_ out of Ikebukuro, goddammit!”

“S-Shizuo-san, _please wait_!” Mikado stutters meekly, but his words were as good as none, as the blonde man growls and stalks up to them.

 

(Run, you idiot.)

( _Run_.)

 

Kanra internally curses herself as she’s grabbed up by the collar and dangled in mid-air before thrown roughly at the front of a nearby café. Pain seares through her entire body as she tries to pick herself up again, and wonders how in the world does Izaya survive all these encounters and leave without even a single scratch.

“What’s wrong, I-za-ya?” Shizuo sneers like a lion with prey in its grasp, “I thought fleas were hard to kill, hm? Pests, they are.”

“Oh.. So this is the famous brute that’s always being talked about around here,” Kanra wipes the blood trickling down the corner of her mouth with her sleeve and grins, “Iza-chan likes playing around with you so much, ne?”

“Hah? Look who’s snapped!” Shizuo laughs, “What’ve you got now, a split personality?”

A nearby stop sign is ripped clean out of the ground and with an echoing roar Shizuo slams it down.

The sign bends crookedly as it makes contact with the ground.

“Bastard!” Izaya growls, fingers nimble as he reaches in his pocket and body twisting agilely as he makes his way out, “I told you to run, didn’t I? You know you can’t defend yourself, ‘specially in _my body_..!”

A flickblade is launched towards Shizuo, but only manages to cut a section of the white dress shirt.

 

( _But you can defend yourself, can’t you~?_ Kanra coos, her imagery in his mind twirling her hair and smile still the same know-it-all grin.)

 

Izaya laughs, strangely devoid, “For myself and myself only. Kanra, I’ve never given so much of a damn to you, you know,” And swiftly sidesteps another hurled make-do missile.

“ _You fucking flea_! Stop jumping around like a delusional idiot!” The brute of Ikebukuro pants. Izaya doesn’t even shoot make a snide remark as he rounds a corner and scales a fire ladder and doesn’t stop to catch so much as one breath before he stops and slumps down the wall.

 

( _Delusional, huh?_ Kanra hums haughtily, _maybe you are.)_

 

“Maybe I am.”

-.-.-

“Shizuo-san, please calm down!” Mikado doesn’t know whether to step closer or further away from the angered man. Said man tried to breathe deeply, but ended up sounding like he had ran a marathon instead. When Shizuo had finally calmed his boiling temper down enough, Mikado was considering calling Celty.

“Oh,” He turned his head, “You’re that kid from Raijin, right?” Mikado nods meekly.

“Y’know that flea, right?” Another nod, but a bit more hesitant.

“ _Tch,_ what’s happened to him?” Shizuo huffs, replaying the oddities in his head. No name-calling, no mighty sneer, no chuckle laced with manic mirth.

 

Ah, well, the less he thinks about the bastard, the better. There are plenty of other things in the world that could be used time on.

Now, he just needs to wipe away this annoyingly undeniable concern stabbing at his chest, and it’s _not_ because he cares.

-.-.-

 

_While seeking solitude I blend in to everyone else,  
Cooled down fatally, I despised the world._

_My figure bluffed, pretending to know everything.  
What is wrong with some footsteps staying away?_

-.-.-

Two – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably be in a few days mm  
> And it'll also clear up some stuff (I hope?)


	3. Undisclosed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little whispers, nicks and all these tricks.

Three.

-.-.-

 

_In front of me, I see the past._

_I don’t know, I don’t know, but please respect it._

_Touch the forgotten; the remaining history,_

_And ask about me._

-.-.-

Orihara Izaya observes the human life more than he lives it. He’d look down on them and smile, his mind running through the complexity and sheer paradoxes this world has come to form. It’s all fascinating in a strange, round-a-bout kind of way, but nothing could make more sense to Izaya himself, little, unexplainable and yet perfectly sensible things.

He also loved himself of course, as he was admittedly human too, but maybe just on a slightly more ‘godly’ level. Then there were ‘monsters’ like Shizu-chan, uncontrollable but predictable, and always fun to rile up and intriguing to observe when they do something even a little out of ordinary.

 

_(Depends on what your definition of ‘ordinary’ is.)_

 

With the ordinary and the predictable, there was always the unknown.

 _She_ is one of them, not a monster, not a human.

 

_(Ah? I’m flattered you’d think of me in such a special way~!)_

 

Uncontrollable and forever-morphing.

-.-.-

It started with little things, then it builds. From unusual twitching of his fingers to turning a wrong corner subconsciously, it didn’t seem like anything major was off at first glance. Perhaps his occasional insomnia was slowly getting to him.

And even sometimes, he’d wake up from the middle of his slumber at his desk with his laptop open and on full brightness on the Dollars chatroom logged in as his bubbly alter-ego. He was so sure that he had left everything closed down properly and went to sleep at his usual quarters. He’d hesitantly dismiss it as sleep-walking.

 

Deep down, in a small, _real_ part of him, he knew that he was just in denial, that he forced himself to believe that he was still in complete and utter control of himself.

 

_(That’s a coward’s way of thinking, ne~?)_

 

Namie’s workdays and hours were cut down, and he’s begun to stay indoors more, the paranoia gradually seeping through, and before he knew it, she was in his dreams as well.

 

_(You’re just a coward, Iza-chan, afraid of losing control, losing power, isn’t that right~? You can’t forget me though, humph, I’m always here, I’m that little something that you can’t control, that’s ultimately part of you. What are you going to do, hm?)_

_(These humans, they’re scared of you because you’re just so different, they whisper about you in the shadows, but like these humans you think you control, you’re the same. You’re just as damaged and so full of sin.)_

 

And he’d wake up in the dead of the night gasping and panting for breath, shivers running through himself and he’d storm to the bathroom and heave up the remains of the meagre dinner he’s had the night before into the porcelain bowl, feeling a whirl of disgust with anger and helplessness and fear.

 

He wouldn’t – shouldn’t have fear, after all, he’s above everyone else. He’s powerful, _in control_.

 

_(You’re afraid of losing control – you’re **selfish**.) _

 

In the mirror, he traces the outline of his darkening eyebags and his bedraggled hair and he tries to convince himself he’s fine, that he’s still that old cocky informant afraid of not even the brute of Ikebukuro, and that his mask wasn’t falling apart by the second, and that everything’s the same and it’s fine.

_(Fool.)_

Smile.

**_(You’re a fool.)_ **

_He’s fine._

 

 

 

He wished he was.

-.-.-

 

_Words of the past echo in the air._

_I can’t forget it all, but I’ve already arrived._

_Thousands of eras, and thousands of thoughts have morphed,_

_But in the midst of all the lies, nothing has changed._

-.-.-

Three – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's 2k words I swear upon my procrastinating soul


	4. Reciprocal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like a dark paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally mixed up chapter 3's and this chapter's summaries though I don't think anyone would notice //laughs

Four.

-.-.-

 

_Under this persistent rain,  
You looked up at the sky, surprised. _

_“The peace you seek is not here.”_

 

-.-.-

Maybe all along, Kanra just wanted someone to talk to, someone _real_ and who doesn’t conceal away their real selves behind an online alias. The chatroom was lonesome without anyone in it, and even if there was, they weren’t there forever. Izaya’s mind was large, black grey and devoid of anything, for they were all thrown away – emotions, love life, and friends, without a second thought to keep the man himself evolving and staying ahead of the crowd of Ikebukuro. Only the shrewd obsession for humans stayed.

She supposed this could be considered a sanctuary for her, no death, no crime, no _trouble_ in here – she despised those. She’s tried to convince herself of that.

However, the mind is of its own place, and in itself, can make a heaven of hell, or a hell of heaven.

And this empty, lone space was nothing of a sanctuary to her.

-.-.-

“Ah? Mi-chan’s not here?” Kanra looked around the room, noting the absence of the stoic brunette woman, “Hmph, well, that was fun anyways.”

Off went the fur-trimmed jacket, and she sat herself down onto the couch.

“Ahh..” She muttered, “What to do..”

The charging laptop on the desk caught her attention and she lifted herself up and entered the Dollars chatroom, fingers keying in _‘baccano’_ by muscle memory.

She smiles as she’s back in her natural habitat. Made especially as a personality to communicate through types words, there _are_ special perks.

 

_Loading.._

[ _Setton_ ]: So you have to let the noodles soak for a day?!

[ _Saika_ ]: Unfortunately, yes, but they’re very tasty.

 

[ _Kanra_ has entered the chat room]

 

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Oh dear lord.

[ _Kanra_ ]: Everything was so fun today! Hey, hey, did you guys have fun today? Hm? Ikebukuro was so cool, but oh that Heiwajima guy was pretty nasty, dear me..

[ _Tanaka Taro_ ]: ..Kanra-san..?

[ _Kanra_ ]: And you were so tiny and cute, Taro-kun! You go to Raijin, right? Iza-chan used to go there too, did you know? And that blonde brute and that other what’s-his-name in that creepy lab coat~!

[ _Setton_ ]: Calm down, are you alright, Kanra-san??

[ _Saika_ ]: Are you talking about Shinra-san? He always wears a lab coat..

[ _Setton_ ]: Ehh?

[Private message from _Bakyura_ ]

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Look, Izaya, I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve been acting a whole lot out of sorts lately, and I figured you’ve probably finally got a screw loose in your head, so tell me you’re still being a manipulative bastard and show that you’re just being a troll and nothing else, because this isn’t normal.

[ _Kanra_ ]: Hi-hi, Bakyura-kun~, Iza-chan’s locking himself out and not letting me in, just letting you know. Hmph!

[ _Kanra_ ]: And I’ll pass the message to him saying that you’re concerned for him so maybe he’ll come out, hm?

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Izaya locked himself out??

[ _Kanra_ ]: Yeah, well, I called him some bad things and I think he’s scared of me or something. Oh well, he is a coward anyways.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: ..Who is this typing on his laptop.

[ _Kanra_ ]: Why is everyone asking?? I’m just Kanra, okay? Even Izaya doesn’t like to admit my existence even when I’m part of his personality! Geez, everyone’s so sceptical..

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Izaya.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: I mean Kanra. Tell me what’s going on.

[ _Kanra_ ]: Number three.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Huh?

[ _Kanra_ ]: You’re the third person to ask me, and the second to know.

[ _Bakyura_ ]: Well..

[ _Kanra_ ]: _{Attached link}_

[ _Bakyura_ ]: What.. is that?

[ _Kanra_ ]: Statistics on something known as dissociative identity disorder. Have you ever heard of ‘split personalities’, Bakyura-kun?

 

Maybe, Kanra realises, that she’s being too pretentious.

-.-.-

A knock. Two knocks. Three against the dark mahogany door.

“Shinra-san?” Masaomi called out, “It’s me, Kida.”

 

“Ah, _Kida-kun!_ Come in, come in,” The bespectacled doctor beamed brightly and made way for his guest through the door, “Celty, dear, would you prepare some more tea?”

 [Oolong tea or PuEr?]

“Ah, don’t we have any regular green tea left?”

[Shizuo accidentally chucked the canister out of the window and it landed on some poor old folk’s head.]

“Oh, I remember, Oolong, then, thank you, sweetie,” Shinra laughed mildly and took a seat on one of his many couches, “Have a seat.”

 

“Alright, so, do you need anything?” Shinra beamed.

“Well, uh,” Masaomi scratched his head, wondering where to start, and pulled out his phone to open the Dollar’s chat.

 

“Ah, I see,” Shinra nodded sagely when he looked over the messages, “So, from my experience, Izaya-kun seems to be suffering from ‘dissociative identity disorder’, or so people like us in the medical field like to simply use the acronym ‘DID’,” He frowned, “In simply terms, it’s a case of multiple personalities.”

“But what could’ve caused it?” Masaomi pointed out, “Izaya always seemed to be fine, if not a bit.. _out of sorts_ from regular people.”

Shinra bit his lip, “I’m not a hundred percent on this, since I don’t particularly specialize in psychology, but I’d say it’ll be developed from either as a defence from insanity – mental instability – or as some kind of trauma from abuse or a highly unpredictable environment. Either is likely for the cause, considering Izaya-kun’s daily lifestyle.”

[Woah..]

“Ow, my head hurts,” Masaomi groaned, “This is all so damn _complicated_.”

[I find it understandable,] Celty hummed silently, [So, basically, it’s a defence mechanism from the mind.]

“Right.” Shinra turned his head around, “Anyways, is this what you came for today?”

Masaomi suddenly became acutely aware that he has come to attempt to help the person he thought he hated the most.

Sighs collected throughout the room. Shinra ran a hand through his hair, oddly ruffled about the current situation. Izaya, though unreliable and manipulative, was ultimately still his long-time friend, and it was slightly.. weird. Maybe he just didn’t want to lose a piece of his life from his incompetence as a doctor – an illegal one, at that, but still a doctor.

“As far as I know, there is no known cure for something like this,” Multiple eyes looked upwards, and Shinra coughed, “But, maybe there should be a way to let him overcome his denial – or whatever it is that’s causing him to lock himself away mentally, but maybe still accept his alter-ego-turned-real, but tell him, Masaomi-kun, since, even through all that, at the end of the day, his alter, Kanra,” He gestured towards the said person and smiled, slightly bitter, “She’s still part of Izaya, isn’t she? Tell her that as well.”

-.-.-

“I’m very sorry I wasn’t as much help as you expected,” Shinra said, voice low and laced with tiredness. Masaomi simply shook his head as he put on his shoes, “No, you were great at explaining, Shinra-san. Without you, we probably wouldn’t have understood what was happening with Izaya,” He glanced around nervously, “ _Thank you_.”

After he finally managed to tie his shoelaces, Masaomi bid fare-well to Shinra and Celty.

 

“Well,” Masaomi started off, talking to the cold night air around him, “I honestly couldn’t believe Izaya – out of all the people – would develop something like split personality or some shit like that, but now that I think about it, it certainly is possible, yeah?”

“Well, of course, _Bakyura-kun_ -” Someone chirruped behind him, and Masaomi turned his head so fast he was sure he’d get whiplash. Standing there, was Izaya, hands in pockets and a pursed smile dancing on his lips. The setting sun cast an unfamiliar orange glow around him.

“Izaya-”

“Ah, ah, it’s _Kanra-chan,_ ” She grinned, twirling around twice before standing beside Masaomi could move a muscle, “I’m just out exploring for a bit around here, don’t worry.”

“Oh..?” It felt so foreign, to be next to the man Masaomi absolutely despised like old friends, and fully knowing that this wasn’t even the man he loathed, but maybe someone else entirely, just in the same body.

 

Kanra said nothing for a few moments, eyes just absently wandering over the neon Ikebukuro landscape, before kicking away a soda can and mumbled, “I honestly couldn’t believe, myself, either, y’know? How my online identity could morph into something like this, huh? It’s probably slightly pathetic in it’s own way, I guess.”

Kida turned his head towards the voice, and there it was, the cocky smile – undertones of melancholy and exhaustion apparent – and gaped slightly, _“Izaya-kun?”_

“Hello, Kida-kun,” Izaya smiled, “How are you? Yes, I heard your ramblings just then.”

Masaomi took a few deep breathes – he was bound to have tension build up near this guy; slippery and totally unpredictable and downright calculative.

 

Maybe just a bit lonely as well.

 

“Kanra thinks you’re hiding,” The brisk words are out before he can catch them back, “Are you?”

The question throws Izaya off-guard for a few seconds, and Masaomi decides that, since it’s out already, he might as well just go for it, “Are you afraid of something? What are you afraid of? Why are you-”

“Stop.” The words were hoarse and tense and so out of character, “Stop that.”

“But-”

_“Kida-kun.”_

“ _Fuck_ ,” Masaomi explodes, “Listen to me for once okay? I’ve spent half of my life working as a _slave_ for you, and you don’t give me anything in return? Not even _answers_?”

Izaya stills, then closes his eyes.

The voice is laughing from the back of his head again.

 

_(Ah, you were crueller than him, you know~? Don’t just ignore what he says, it’s you who doesn’t understand his viewpoint. Ignorance isn’t always bliss.)_

_(You’re just scared.)_

-.-.-

_Even if I don’t care about paradise,_  
It is right here.  
Stop this overflowing lust,  
The time of my decay has come.

 

-.-.-

Four – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been typing up chapter 7 just now and trying my best to get at least 1.5k words every chap arGH  
> Also, yes, these are song lyrics at the beginning and end each time, but they're translated from Japanese, so please bear with me if some of them don't join up too neatly.  
> Most of them are from Yuuhei Satellite's songs, if you're wondering :^)))
> 
> Also, I mighttt have rushed this chapter, so things are probably a bit too fast-paced.  
> Yes I can hear those "There's a slow build tag though"  
> I hear them, children.


	5. Diminish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which side of you is the real you?

Five.

-.-.-

 

_The echoes won't stop ringing,_

_They just keep lingering in my heart._

_The only thing that I've become good at was leaning on my memories._

-.-.-

Kanra woke up to Namie towering over the bed with an unamused expression on her cold face – something along the lines of _‘get up now or I’m letting frogs jump into the bedsheets I thought you were an insomniac’_ – and she groaned after she recovered from her initial shock, “It’s early, ugh..” And proceeded to bury herself even further into the black doona. Namie sniffed, “It’s eleven. Sheesh, Izaya wouldn’t ever wake up this late. Breakfast is already cold. Get up and get dressed.”

“M’kay mom..”

“You are never to call me that again from Izaya’s mouth, do you hear?”

“But mum~”

“Get _dressed_ ,” Namie growled patience straining, and hurled a black shirt at the lump on the bed. Said lump only groaned in response and Namie marched out the door in her heels.

-.-.-

“Ah, geez~” Kanra stretched in front of the mirror, “I got eye-bags.. This sucks, I must’ve slept too late. Where’s the toothpaste anyways? Mou, Iza-chan never tells me anything.”

 “Your damn pancakes are going to be growing mould!” Namie howled from downstairs, and Kanra had to restrain herself from slipping and cracking her head on the sink from shock.

“Coming, coming, geez!”

-.-.-

“Hey, this is really good!” Kanra praised the secretary between bites, “Even though it’s a bit cold now, I mean, how you all cook so well, you, Setton-san, probably even Saika-chan..”

“I got a call from Shinra-san this morning,” Namie jutted in, effectively shutting Kanra up, “Apparently, Kida asked him about..” She pinched her nose, “You. For now, there’s really nothing we can do about your pathetic situation,”

“Oh?”

“Or something like that,” Namie sighed loudly, “You can go wherever you go when you’re finished, just leave me to work.”

-.-.-

Kanra kind of had hoped that had been heard by Izaya, since these words had directed at him, specifically. Ah, well, he should have heard. It won’t be good for her to be stressing over that for now, as she’s back in Ikebukuro, or more specifically, Russia Sushi for dinnertime. Kanra’s known that Izaya loves the fatty tuna here, so she was just curious enough to travel from Shinjuku to try it out. So far, she thinks she prefers the belly salmon here better than the tuna. Maybe the takoyaki wasn’t so bad either.

“He-llo, Izaya, how are you?” Simon walks in, sweat beading around his forehead, “Very hot today, yes?”

“Yeah, it is, Simon,” Kanra replies, still nibbling at the salmon, “It’s, what, like thirty-five-ish degrees Celsius out there? And it’s already the evening now.” She’d long abandoned the fur-trim jacket since she’d stepped a foot outside of the apartment, and instead opted for simply holding it as she made her way to Ikebukuro.

“Very odd,” Simon peers at her, “Why no fatty tuna today?”

“A-ah, I wanted to try something different, I guess..” Kanra hoped he didn’t notice the minor stutter and tried to act as in character as possible. She swore that she had heard Izaya snort in the back of her mind, and ignores it, after all, Namie had wanted her to stay low and not attract too much attention to herself by acting out of it in the famous informant’s image for the fear that it might attract the attention of Izaya’s less-than-savoury ‘acquaintances’ and try to make a move on him, when Kanra isn’t even half-experienced in any fighting techniques.

 _Well excuse you,_ she thought bitterly to herself, _at least I know how to round-house kick someone in the groin._

-.-.-

_“Izaya-!”_

 

(Now when I tell you to run, you _fucking run_ , do you hear me?! Get away from Shizu-chan, you don’t stand a chance-)

 

“Ah, shit, you don’t need to tell me twice..” Kanra mutters, and she turns the other direction, “And right after a nice dinner too, humph.” She took off, feet pattering as she weaved through the crowds, still keeping a conscious eye on the blonde beast.

“You’re not getting anywhere today! Get back here, you fucking flea, I’ll crush you under my shoe today, _do you hear me?!_ ”

-.-.-

Shizuo was having a fantastically shitty day. Kasuka left early in the morning for shooting, so Shizuo had to make breakfast himself. He may or may have not have accidentally crushed the toaster, dented a frying pan and cracked five eggs onto the ground. Deciding that cooking at home was out of question, he went to the convenience store to buy bento and some milk while he was at it.

Unfortunately, the store was closed for the week due to reconstruction, so he growled and travelled to the supermarket for said milk. There, a child accidentally spilled juice on his uniform, knocked over a breath mint stand, intimidated a poor old lady and bent the trolley.

He found himself bored in the afternoon, absentmindedly wandering around with Tom, since at this time of the year, most people were actually able to pay their debt for a nice change. _Maybe_ he found himself thinking about what happened to a certain insect in a fur-trim jacket and had the sudden urge to bang his head against the wall (odds were that the wall would break first).

And now at night, he was out looking for a store to have dinner at, when he spots the flea casually walking around. That set his anger on fleek, and he saw red as he picked up a wooden bench and chucked it without second thoughts.

Of course the flea had to run away without even taunting him, which was unusual, to say the least. Maybe he’ll ask when he finally actually _catches_ him.

-.-.-

Kanra never thought of herself as defenceless, but of course, when you’re chased by a raging bartender hulk, it’s easy to doubt yourself at times like this.

“You flea, get out of here, do you hear me?!” Shizuo’s screams echoed throughout the area, and many gladly made way for the two in case they got caught in the crossfire too.

Kanra had the reflexes to dodge quite a few of the make-do projectiles; potted plants, the usual street signs, street lights, maybe a fire hydrant, even – she wasn’t sure – but it definitely caught her off guard when she barely registered a _SUV_ flung at her.

There wasn’t time to run to either side, and behind her was the street, which didn’t do much to raise her chances of escaping unscathed-

She was crashed into full-force, slammed onto the ground, and pain flared through her entire being – _hurts_ – as she was flung onto the road, and car beeps sounded everywhere, people scattered, some screaming, some taking photos. Kanra felt her lungs strain, hard to breathe through the smoke. Maybe a few million bones fractured as well.

 _Ow,_ she thought bitterly, _this hurts like a bitch. You sure do like to play with fire, Iza-chan._

 

(Oh my.. Fuck, don’t move dammit, hey, hey, stay awake – look, I’m sorr-)

 

It’s the last thing she hears before she drowns deep into oblivion.

 

_Sweet, sweet bliss._

-.-.-

[Shinra! Hey Shinra!] Celty types even though the doctor can’t see her yet and bursts into their shared apartment, flustered and anxious.

Shinra looks up from his two-minute chicken noodles – his impromptu dinner since Celty announced she had received a last-minute courier job – and asked with a mouthful of the stuff, “What?”

[Iz- _Kanra_ got into an accident and she’s now unconscious! Shizuo’s trying to stop the bleeding, but I’m pretty sure some vitals were hit!] Celty’s fingers skitter over the PDA, and Shinra drops his chopsticks and turns towards the dullahan, “Where are they?”

[In town, on the big road near the park, hurry, Shinra!]

“I’m coming, hold up, I need my equipment..!”

-.-.-

“Let me through, coming through, doctor here!” Shinra grits out as he pushes past the mob of rubber-neckers. There was debris everywhere, and a few cars dented here and there, smoke flying and police sirens flaring in the distance. The illegal doctor’s glad that there weren’t any police or ambulances here yet – he couldn’t trust them with his friend.

Squatting in the middle of the catastrophe was Shizuo, white sleeves stained with an ugly red-brown-maroon and looking very conflicted between ‘shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, just stay alive’, and ‘why am I helping this insect I should let him die already’.

Shinra makes himself known to the man, “Shizuo,” The debt-collector almost jumps, then relaxes at the sight of his old friend, “You’re helping him because he isn’t Izaya, not now, actually.”

Shizuo looks up, slightly confused and very agitated, “What the hell does that mean?” He grunts, “Ah, who cares about that right now, help me here, Shinra, you bastard, he’s bleeding out!”

The white-clad doctor wasted no time patching up the gashes and wounds that were the deepest around the main arteries and the vitals.

“Shit,” He mumbled, “This isn’t looking too good, we’ve got to get him back to my place, I’ve got an operating room there.”

“An _operating_ roo-” Shizuo started off, but was cut off sharply by his childhood friend.

“Hurry up, dammit-!”

[I can take Kanra back by the bike, but you two will have to walk, I’m sorry, Shinra, but the bike can’t fit more without changing shape.]

“That’s fine,” Shinra dusted himself off as Kanra was heaved onto the back, and face now covered by a black helmet, “I do have some explaining to do to Shizuo. I’ll run home as fast as I can, I’m sure you know how to hook on the IV and prepare the antiseptic and all that, right?”

Celty nodded, and with a whinny, she zoomed off.

 

“We should hurry too, the bleeding doesn’t wait for us,” Shinra grinned, picking up his pace into a run, “Also, ask away.”

“..Who’s ‘Kanra’?”

-.-.-

“Celty, we’re back! How’s the patient?” Shinra burst through the door without bothering to take off his shoes, and breathed heavily as he rushed into one of the secluded rooms of the apartment.

[She’s stable for now, Shinra, but you should take a better look.]

Sure enough, the body was lying on the bed, blood still seeping out, staining the pristine sheets, but surely must less than before. A heart monitor by the side beeps in rhythm.

Shinra scowled, “She’s breathing quite shallow, I’ll probably need to x-ray her, in case she has a collapsed lung.”

[I’ll leave you here, Shinra, call me if you need anything.] Celty’s smoke looked a bit uncertain, but she left the room anyways. Shinra sighed, just him and the patient in the room.

“Hey,” He bit his lip, “Wake up, Izaya, you should be taking responsibility for this, you know.”

Nothing but the steady shallow beeps of the monitor.

“Listen up, I don’t know why you’re like this, hiding behind Kanra, or why you choose not to come out, but it won’t be doing any good. Are you scared? If so, what are you scared of? Surely, it isn’t Shizuo, right?”

Shinra runs a hand through his hair, “Well then, you can tell me when you’ve woken up. First up, the lung..”

-.-.-

“Hey, Celty..”

[What is it?]

“Y’know, Izaya, I’ve never really felt the need to understand him, but I guess after this, even he has.. flaws? Ah, shit, this is all so hard to explain, why am I even talking about this? That damn flea probably deserves it,” Shizuo grumbles, and Celty looks like she’s laughing. It’s hard to tell without a head.

[You sound like you’re concerned for him.]

“What? No, no, I’m just.. Ugh!” The blonde flopped back on the couch and stared at the white ceiling, “To be honest, I’ve always known him to be a huge asshole, staring down at us and laughing at us. Maybe, you know, he’s probably just lonely in his own way.”

[Like you?]

“Dammit, that asshole’s nothing like me!”

[You’re contradicting yourself.]

“Huh?” Shizuo growled, “Yeah, maybe I am. I might be a monster by his standards, but even I have eyes and ears and a brain. I can piece together all kinds of shit.”

Celty nodded.

“Sheesh, sometimes I wonder what’s going through that head of his.”

-.-.-

(Ah, has it been two weeks already..?)

 

“Celty, this is bad!” Shinra’s entire being went rigid, “This is bad, one of the abdominal flesh wounds was infected..!”

[Calm down, Shinra, we can’t do anything if you’re like this!]

“It might be too late, dammit, what if I didn’t notice it until it’s too late, huh? I won’t be able to recover it if it’s like that!”

[Shinra!] Celty’s black flames explode minutely, [Snap out of it!]

Shinra stares, rooted to the spot for a few seconds, before letting out a shuddery sigh and attempts to calm himself down, “You’re right, I’m.. I’m sorry. Can you help me go get the antiseptic and anaesthetic?”

If she had a head, Celty would be smiling ruefully, as she turned towards the surgical equipment cabinet.

-.-.-

There was nothing but the sound of the furiously beeping heart monitor and small huffs of breath and a blazing, white-hot determination.

“Shit, come on,” Shinra curses himself as his hands shake, “ _Come on,_ I’m not like this..”

Celty could only watch from behind the door, twinged with anticipation and worry for her lover, before she closed it gently and sighed internally.

“How is it?”

[It’s.. worse than we thought..]

Namie sipped her now-cold coffee slowly – but even Masaomi could see that her fingers were shaking uncontrollably.

“Will Shinra-san be okay?” Mikado – who came along with Masaomi when the blonde was contacted by Celty – asked in half-determination. Celty could only nod her head – if she had one – with uncertainty. The short-haired boy didn’t looked any less stressed as he sank deeper into the couch.

She didn’t like this tense and fragile atmosphere – she never liked conflict, never liked – never wanted – anything like calamity.

Just peace for herself and her friends and _Shinra_.

 

Was she asking for too much?

-.-.-

“What the fuck happened to Izaya?!” Shizuo very literally tore down the door to the apartment, causing Masaomi to jump up in anticipation, Mikado to draw out a gun, and Celty to lash out her flames in a split second.

“Sh-Shizuo-san!” Mikado pointed his gun downwards and flicked the safety, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry..!”  
[Heiwajima Shizuo, there’s a fucking operation underway and you have the nerve not to knock-!] Celty’s PDA struggled under the force of the typing, and none of them have ever seen the normally peaceful dullahan snap in such a way.

“C-Celty-san, calm down!” Masaomi whispered sharply, more to everyone in the room than the Black Rider herself, “And Mikado, where the hell did you get that-that gun?!”

It was then that Shizuo could finally hear the rigorous beeping of the machines in the other room. He sat himself down heavily and felt absolute disgust in himself, coiling around and around, “Fuck, I’m so sorry..”

 

_Why was I so concerned about the shit anyways?_

_Why did I run here, with so much fear, so much worry?_

 

“No, it’s fine,” Mikado said, voice low, “It’s.. not your fault.”

There are cracks forming in his words even as he speaks them.

-.-.-

“Celty..” His voice was rough like sandpaper and drowned in guilt and the echoes of _‘Icouldhavedonemore-Icould’vesavedhim-’_

[Shinra-!]

“Celty, I’m..” He echoed again, eyes fixated on the utterly flat line on the monitor screen,

“I could’ve done better..”

 

Celty left him for space, apologising silently. Something in her felt hollow too, like part of her shattered, and she didn’t know where it went. Of course, she’s concerned more for Shinra – Izaya’s just a burden in her life, but-

Maybe she didn’t feel what Shinra felt – didn’t know the feeling of having something dead by your own hands, something that could have been alive – could have lived even just a second longer.

She had admitted to being naïve to the world, but what good could it do now?

 

Shinra took hesitant, wobbly steps, like a toddler and his first steps into the unknown. The door wasn’t even closed properly behind him as he gritted his teeth and tried to straighten himself as best as he could to his quivering audience.

There’s unspoken words and unheeded questions everywhere, and if Shinra was just a bit weaker, the atmosphere along could have crushed him.

 

_“I’m sorry-”_

-.-.-

 

_The echoes won't stop ringing,_

_As they keep lingering in my heart._

_And even if it’s original shape has faded,_

_The sorrow won't wash away._

 

-.-.-

Five – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry //shot


	6. Terminate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember to breathe.

Six.

-.-.-

_Are there any convenient reasons to answer why we are born?_

_Thinking of the values to be wanted,_

_The dilemma of being wanted; it all aches in my mind._

 

-.-.-

_“I’m sorry-“_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a faint, unsteady _beep_.

 

Two.

 

Three.

-.-.-

_“Izaya-san!”_

“Hell, are you alright?!”

“You.. you flea!”

[ _Shinra!_ You told us..]

 _“I’m not sure what happened..!”_ The bewildered doctor exclaimed, as he rushed over towards the side of the bed, and there he was, lying amongst the sheets stained scarlet and maroon eyes opened hazily, “Izaya, Izaya, can you hear us?”

The raven blinked a few times, so the doctor took it as a sign for him to continue.

“Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?” Shinra tried to ignore how said fingers were trembling, and focused on his patient, “Izaya?”

“..Three..”

Shinra blinked. Normally his friend would make a stuffy remark on how one of them was a thumb or something, but he pushed that thought to the back of his head, labelling it as just plain daze from blood loss.

“Age?”

“Twenty three..”

 

Something didn’t seem right.

 

“A-ah, and last of all,” Shinra’s smile turned plastic, “What’s your name?”

Izaya laid there on the bed unmoving for a while, and when the red-eyed man closed his eyes, there was this fear of losing Izaya for real this time – the shallow sounds from the heart monitor unnerved him further – but when the eyes opened again, Shinra swore that he couldn’t see his long-time friend behind them.

 _“What is your name?”_ He tried again.

 

“My.. name..” He stared at his own hands like they hold some kind of answer, _“Chrome?”_

-.-.-

“This is bad,” Shinra’s lip was now bleeding from how much he’s been biting on it, “Izaya’s.. he’s..”

“Lost his memories..?” Masaomi filled in for him, “Or, he’s developed a new alter-identity.”

Shinra shakes his head, “If it’s the retrograde amnesia, I’m not sure how it occurred..” He continues to gnaw at his lip, “But, if it’s truly.. it makes sense, though, since patients with DID do often develop more alts over time.” He seemed so incredibly unsure about his words, and with his brows furrowed and posture stiff, it’s so unlike the cheerful doctor from before.

 

 _“Chrome..?”_ Namie has her hand under her chin, “Isn’t that.. another of his online handles?”

“Wait, seriously?” Mikado almost gasps, and Masaomi twitches his eyebrow, “So, on the Dollars chatroom, ‘Chrome-san’ is also _Izaya-san?”_

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Masaomi’s voice comes out closer to a growl, “Guy likes to mess with people.”

[..This all seems like too much for one day.] Celty typed, slouching down slightly.

Namie nodded, probably a bit too hastily, “It might, but we’re going to have to sort everything out before we can relax. First off, Izaya needs somewhere to stay.”

“Can’t you..?” Shizuo grunts, and the secretary shoots a scathing glare, “I’m not going to be his housewife twenty four seven because of this. Maybe you guys can, but I’d be glad to take a break from that.. that leech,” Namie grits out, almost involuntarily, and Shinra scowls.

“If you’re so ignorant about your employer, then why are you here?” His eyes narrow behind his rimmed glasses, “Denial won’t get you anywhere, Yagiri-san.”

“I’m not-” The brunette woman snaps, and then clenches her fist and takes a deep, solid breath – _breathe, in, out_ – and whispers, “I’m out, good grief.”

 _“Wait-”_ Mikado tries, but is pushed to the side as Namie storms out of the door.

“Leave her,” Shizuo mutters, “Hell, what’s her problem?”

[You’re strangely calm about this entire fiasco, Shizuo,] Celty states, a bit uncertainly as to how her friend would react.

Shizuo sighs and says nothing, running a hand through his hair in frustration – it’s so obvious how he’s trying to keep a lid on his anger – and says, “Nothing will change if I get angry, right?”

 

“Thank you, Shizuo,” Shinra smiles – genuine and open towards his child-hood friend, “I should check on Iz.. Izaya..” The last word comes out strangled and washed over in doubt and confusion.

-.-.-

“Hey, Iza – Kan – _Chrome_ -san, how are you feeling?” The utterly fake smile is back, and Shinra doesn’t like it feeling so unnatural on his face. Perhaps this is what Izaya feels every time? Maybe.

 The other only stares blankly at the illegal doctor, before looking down at his hands again, “I’m.. better, it’s okay, thank you.”

 

_(This isn’t okay._

_Izaya isn’t supposed to be this meek and off-guard._

_This is wrong._

_This is not him.)_

 

The corners of Shinra’s smile twitch, “Ah, that’s good then, are you able to eat yet? Walk, perhaps?”

“I think I can manage, Kishitani-sensei.” It was just so plain wrong, hearing these words out of what seemed like Izaya’s mouth – they’re supposed to be teasing and snappy and irritatingly familiar. Yet, this Izaya – Chrome? – didn’t seem like a notorious information broker of Shinjuku.

 

“Come on, slowly there,” Shinra internally grimaced at the state of the clothing Chrome was still wearing while he was trying to lift himself off the bed – rusty brown, not unlike the colour of a wilted rose, still patches of slightly fresher bloodstains here and there. Only now Shinra realised how fortunate the man in front of him was to grab that last remaining thread of life, even when the surgeon himself had abandoned his work.

Thinking about his own incompetence makes him want to retch.

“There we go, how are your kneecaps?” He tries, gently, like talking to an infant. For a split-second, there was a passing expression in Chrome’s eyes – something like disbelief? Mockery?

 

 _(Izaya,_ His subconsciousness tells him. _)_

 

It’s gone the next time he tries to find it again in these rust-coloured orbs, and so Shinra mentally shakes his head and tries to convince himself that maybe he’s imagining things or that it’s simply an after-symptom and developing another alt. The emotions tend to get slightly astray, especially in this state.

He’s still so sure that his friend is in there somewhere, it’s probably just a simply matter of time.

 

He wishes it was _‘simple’_.

Some things are just too much to ask for.

 

“Hey guys, Iz – Chrome should be able to walk fine, since I don’t see anything straight-up wrong with his kneecaps, which probably sustained some damage. Hey, Chrome, this is Kida Masaomi-”

“Your slave.”

“Ryuugamine Mikado, just remember the air-conditioner brand and you’ll be fine.”

“P-pleased to meet you, Chrome-san..”

 “Struluson Celty, my wife, please ignore the fact that she has no head – ow!”

[We’re not officially married yet, you dope!] Yet, despite these words, there’s no real humour in Celty’s body language.

“And..” The doctor debated against introducing the last person, but decided to throw the loop anyways, since Shizuo didn’t seem like he was too pissed at the mere sight of the Izaya-lookalike, far from it, actually.

“Heiwajima Shizuo,” The blonde debt-collecter finished for his friend, “Just call me ‘Shizu-chan’, I don’t mind.

 

Maybe he went a little far then, but he swears, as he feels his fists clench and a vein crack out on his forehead – count to ten - count the fucking sheep – that it’s for a good cause. Maybe it might trigger something in the flea’s amnesiac mind.

Celty would have gasped if she had a head, pointing one hand shakily at Shizuo, and began other typing hurriedly on her PDA.

Kida and Mikado looked slightly dumbfounded, and were probably staring without even knowing – _Breathe Heiwajima Shizuo breath goddammit –_ until Celty accidentally bumped into them in her mini-hyperventilation.

[Sh-Shizuo’s been replaced with an alien-! Shinra! Don’t let him get close!]

“Celty, calm dow-”

[An alien, alien! It’s like that Area 52 movie! Stay back Shinra, I’ll save you!]

Shizuo just clonked her on where her head would be, and grunted, “No, it might bring back bits of his memory or something, I’m not being..” He trailed off.

“Y’know, Shizuo, we can all see that you’re in denial,” Shinra grinned, trying to calm down his dullahan lover at the same time, “Don’t worry, for someone who’s already in their twenties, it’s perfectly healthy to be trying to find a suitable life partner.” Shizuo actually couldn’t believe his eyes when his childhood friend winked at him as well.

“Shinra..” Shizuo was, internally, very proud of himself at that moment – no throwing around furniture in rage or screaming or-

“Ah, Shizuo-sa.. I mean, Shi-Shizu-chan..” Iza – Chrome stuttered a bit at the words coming from his mouth, and the artificial blonde felt his mouth tighten up for a moment and – what is this it suddenly feels so hot in here – tried to swallow with as much normalcy as he could, before looking behind his shoulder, “Y-yes?”

“Ah..” The Izaya-lookalike looked slightly lost for a second, “Thank.. you.”

The threw the other for a second (and almost everyone else in the room).

“What for?”

Chrome looked down, and fiddled with his fingers, “No, nothing, it’s okay.”

[Ah, look, it’s almost dinner-time and I haven’t prepared anything! Do you guys want to stay for dinner?] Celty almost jumped when she turned towards the clock, and scrambled towards the door in haste.

“I think I should go home now too,” Mikado raised his hands above his head and stretched, the knots in his spine coming undone, “Thank you for the offer, Celty-san.” The dullahan gives an ‘okay’ gesture in return. [Do you need me to give you a ride home?]

“Ah, it’s fine, thank you.”

[Stay safe, then.]

 

As Celty leaves the room, most likely to prepare dinner for herself, Shinra, two guests and a patient, with Shinra in tow, Masaomi speaks up, “Chrome-san, do you.. really not-”

“I’m sorry, Kida-san, I don’t remember anything at all,” He shakes his head softly, looking just as downfallen as the blonde across from him, “I only knew my name when I woke up, and that was it. I wonder what my life was like when I knew you all if I was lucky enough to have so many people by my side after a surgery like that,” His laugh twinkled brightly, and to Masaomi, it wasn’t right – it shouldn’t be on Izaya’s face, using his expressions.

 

Masaomi himself knows, from a small part from the back of his mind that he should be happy, he should be rejoicing that the one who he despised over the years of knowing him is in a vulnerable state like this – and maybe even considering killing him. Saki was, after all, hurt by his hands.

 _But I’m no monster,_ _or god_ , he thinks, unconsciously stealing a glance towards Shizuo _, I shouldn’t kill, shouldn’t hurt, even if I did run a gang, I want to stay untainted_.

He didn’t know anything about Heiwajima Shizuo, though.

Even less about Orihara Izaya.

 

“Hey, you three – ah, it’s good to see that Shizuo’s still calm – sorry, sorry, Shizuo, dinner’s ready by my beloved Celty,” Shinra babbled, taking a few steps back when Shizuo glowered upon the smaller man.

Maybe, Masaomi thinks as he leads Chrome to the dining table, where a hot pot sits, maybe he’s still as naïve as ever.

He doesn’t mind, not now, really, not when he has these friends of his who are willing to go lengths for him for nothing in return.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Shinra-san! It’s raining and I didn’t bring an umbrella so I can’t get home, and I’m hoping to stay for dinner at least!”

 

Masaomi cracks a grin.

 

For once, he feels like he can breathe a little easier, just for the time being.

-.-.-

 

_By being forced to have a reason,_

_I am able to negotiate with you._

_I'm now having the right to want._

_We are all the one and only philosopher from the day that we were born._

 

-.-.-

Six – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my school is starting again on the 29th and from there on I'll probably only have time to update on weekends or so //grumble grumble  
> So updates are going to slow down and won't be like how I update every 2 days or so because I'm impatient pff


	7. Retrospective

Seven.

-.-.-

 

_I don’t know the meaning of life,_

_But like you, it must exist._

_Trying to put the broken shards back together,_

_I can’t expect them to all look the same._

 

-.-.-

_‘Chrome’ was a polar opposite to ‘Izaya’._

_‘Kanra’ fits somewhere in between._

 

_‘Izaya’ was mocking, antisocial, very aloof and rubs off the wrong way on people. ‘Kanra’ was loud, boastful, dramatic, and ‘Chrome’ was mild, timid, polite._

_‘Kanra’ usually led people to like her inevitably._

_‘Chrome’ had people he thought were friends beside him when he woke up._

_‘Izaya’ had almost nothing except Shinra._

 

Shinra ran all the psychological diagnoses he could on Chrome, which wasn’t much, considering he mostly specialized in plastic surgery and the more physical fields. There were notes scattered around his desk, some scribbled on with various theories with his chicken-scratch writing (he believed that writing should be ‘read not examined’, Celty called him a hypocrite) while others just scrunched up – some in frustration, others boredom, and majority exasperation – with thoughts on his mind.

He wonders why he even bothers. Izaya wasn’t the best friend he had in high school – egoistical, did things on a whim, haughty. Shinra didn’t particularly like these qualities, but he chose to accept Izaya anyways.

 

(Izaya would remark that it was the other way around, of course.)

-.-.-

Maybe it was the way he sat at the back of every class he attended, the fingers on the unmoving pen twitching now and again, and maroon eyes out the window, looking for something that normal people wouldn’t bother looking for.

Shinra always sits at the front, eagerly taking notes, but he always glances back at the black-haired boy, and wonders what exactly he’s looking for every day.

 

Something like attachment, maybe.

Humanly interaction?

 

(When Shinra thinks back on that train of thought nowadays, he wants to snort at the irony.)

 

Shinra’s heard many rumours fly about around Izaya back then, ranging from being an acquaintance with the yakuza to forming a drug ring to murdering a man.

He’s not sure what to believe anymore.

Normally he would stay away – far, far away, these eyes scream red radio-tower warning lights (danger, danger) – but when he looks again at the lone boy sitting on the fence every break with juice popper in his hand and half-lidded eyes, a swelling of guilt and perhaps _all-too-human_ pity grows in the pit of his stomach.

 

The bell then always tolls for the end of break.

-.-.-

“Hey, do you want to start a club together?” The words are out of his mouth before he can react fast enough, and he internally winces at how informal it sounds to another fellow student he hardly interacts with. Izaya cocks his head around at Shinra, and his eyes scream ‘disinterest-monotony-forlorn’, before he smirks (warning, warning).

 

Shinra, if he wasn’t looking directly for it, would have not noticed the tiny, meek, _real_ smile before it was covered in a drape of a much larger shell of what it was.

 

“..A club?”

“Yes.”

“What sort?”

 

(He thinks he should’ve been glad that he wasn’t rejected straight up back then. It could have been worse.)

-.-.-

(He thinks he should’ve been glad that he wasn’t stabbed in a vital area back then. Nothing could be worse than that.)

 

_“Orihara, you shit, give me back my money!”_

 

He sees red, and then he sees stars. He always knew that the guys on TV were acting – none of it was real, coagulating blood. It was all fake, fake and fake – but to actually feel it first-hand, has never been on one of the rankings in his ‘top moments in life’ list.

Izaya’s over him, muttering and sputtering curses and apologies, as Nakura’s heavy footsteps resounded in the hallway, and maybe it was the loss of blood, or maybe it was too much reading last night and not enough sleep, but the red-orange-vermillion light seeping through the windows and poured onto Izaya’s dark locks – and the _eyes_ , they glowed – and worried-desperate frown made him seem nothing like the quiet and cold student he normally is everyday with hard eyes and a glare that scared off the seniors.

He could even say that he was honoured to be the first one to ever see something like this, like a dusty, immovable curtain suddenly ripped and crumpling to the ground.

 

It feels all so human.

 

And then he felt the liquid seep through his fingers, and he faintly rasped, “Tape..”

“Tape?” Izaya echoed back, the worry still jumping in his eyes and very much alive. Shinra grinned weakly.

“Duct tape.. to stop the blood..”

“Stay there,” His voice was firm but quivering underneath the layers.

 

When he tried to wrap his wound up the best he could – along with Izaya’s help, and tried to focus on steadying his breathing, and felt his eyelids flutter shut.

Izaya spoke out of the blue.

“I’ll take the blame.”

“What?” Shinra opened his eyes wide, and looked up at the other boy now standing up.

“In return, I’ll have him pay for the rest of his life.”

 Suddenly, a torrent of words were struggling to push through the barrier of his throat once his hazy brain registers the words. Questions, remarks, demands, but above all, just a single words leapt through.

 

_“Why?”_

 

The raven-haired boy’s smile was rue, and he said, “I should be the only one who controls who hurts you, Shinra.”

-.-.-

He’s changed, and Shinra knows it – sees it.

He doesn’t like it.

It’s like going to sleep one night in utter normalcy and waking up the next in a war.

Izaya’s smiles are now more malicious than ever, twisted like thorns around a fence, and his actions daring, taunting and high, and to many, not much of his has changed, except that he’s just more irksome and tedious. They dislike the change.

Shinra hates the change, because now it seems like the boy is even hollower than before, with the many, many overcoats of acting and vast numbers of drapes of pride.

 

He can’t see the boy from the evening before anymore.

 

Maybe, Shinra thinks, he just needs more people to rely on. I’m probably not enough.

The fact that maybe his friend has distanced himself even more from the world because of Shinra stings him to the core.

 

( _I’m sorry_ , part of him whispers _, I’m sorry I’m not enough_.)

-.-.-

The football field was a mess; a catastrophe of bent railings, upturned turf, smoke, ruined goalposts and unconscious people.

In the midst was what most others would call a _‘monster’_.

“Ah, who’s this?” Izaya’s shrill voice rings in his ears, and it echoes.

“Just a second, I can introduce him to you,” Shinra tells him back, swallowing down a lump in his throat and he licks his suddenly-dry lips, “Just wait a second.”

 

“Shizuo-kun!” He calls out to the field, and tries to ignore the sweat prickling at his skin, the clamminess of his fingers. Izaya, behind him, only had his glinting eyes on Shizuo with immense fascination. It might not have been Shizuo – his outgoing and adventurous childhood friend, with maybe a slight anger problem – that made him lose his breath and legs shake.

It was the question of how Shizuo’s and Izaya’s relationship would turn out that he was so afraid of.

 

(And look where we are now.)

-.-.-

Chrome, after a few long, dragged out days, could finally walk without his legs shaking slightly and tripping over things here and there (Shinra noticed that he was slightly clumsy). Shinra’s decided that Izaya couldn’t return to his apartment in Shinjuku without constant watch over his state now and Namie surely wouldn’t be appealed to know that she’d be babysitting for who-knows-how-long.

He’s started helping Celty with dinner (very good cook, apparently), organize the patient diagnoses files for Shinra, and do the laundry for both of them, and it’s like he’s suddenly morphed into part of their home, someone who’s Izaya but someone who’s not.

 

Shinra noticed, throughout this time, Chrome didn’t smile often (his face blank mostly), if he did, it seemed slightly forced. It bothered him, but he decided that it was just the alt’s nature.

 

(Izaya once told him with a grin before a meeting with the Awakusu-Kai that a _‘poker face’_ was necessary for hiding your emotions.)

 

 _Maybe,_ Shinra thinks as he closes a yearbook from his high school years on the page with himself and Izaya, _we can only hope that this is only for the best_.

-.-.-

 

_My heart is mending my regrets,_

_Like pouring water over rotting grass and trees._

_As senseless as this may be,_

_I feel that this is worth._

 

-.-.-

Seven – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squint and you can see the Shinzaya here :^DD  
> (One of my many guilty ships m'sorry)  
> I've just finished typing chapter 10 and I hope that I can write a few more chapters before school starts up so my schedule is a bit more loose.  
> I swear that there's Shizaya build within the next few chapterss


	8. Hideaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Adam and Eve, to think that they started here.

Eight.

-.-.-

 

_Little by little, from the world,_

_Day after day, even light and temperature begin to fade._

_It’s come to a point at which an escape from absolute zero fills the gap between us._

 

-.-.-

Maybe it’s the sound of the doorbell, so obnoxiously loud and persistent in his ears, that wakes him, or it’s the way that the sunlight streams through his curtains, without giving a second thought to the grumbling blonde swimming in his blankets.

Something high and shrill pierces his ears.

It’s probably the doorbell.

The doorbell.

_The doorbell._

 

Shizuo almost rolls off his bed and smacks his head onto the bedside cupboard and scampers and gropes around blindly for a shirt that _isn’t_ his wrinkled pajamas. The doorbell is a bit more insistent now, and the ‘Fortissimo of Ikebukuro’ hurriedly runs a hand through his knotty hair before opening the door.

His first instinct is to punch the guy standing behind it.

“Ah.. Shizuo-san,” Izaya stood at the doorway – _no, no, no, this was Chrome, he remembers, and mentally punches himself instead_ – with a slightly insecure posture. He appeared to be holding a black barrel bag in one hand and there was a pillowcase in the other. Shizuo blinked, trying to let his brain register, before pointing out, “Why do you have an overnight bag with you?”

For a split second, the way Chrome tried to stifle a snort was like Izaya – too much like Izaya, that bastard, for his liking, but he counts to three, blinks two, three times, and it’s Chrome again, and Shizuo almost glad.

Almost.

 

(Maybe it’s the fact that the man that he’s hated for seven years is standing at the door with a clueless frown of his face and absolutely defenceless and utterly, abnormally polite.)

 

“I’m staying here for a few days, Shizuo-san, since Shinra-san and Celty-san away going to be away for the timeframe. I heard them mention something about a company about Nebula and Shinra-san’s father,” Chrome supplied helpfully, and the debt-collector nods, opening the door wider for the other to come in, “That’s fine, then.”

 

Inside, Shizuo admits that it isn’t the most luxurious place to live, but it was still comfortable, and held memories for him and Kasuka. He cringes as he realises that he’s said that thought out loud and how cheesy it exactly sounds.

Chrome laughs though, not the teasing, mocking, strained and shrill laugh Izaya always uses, far from it. Chrome’s laughs were closer to little chuckles than anything, ringing and soft.

Shizuo decided that he quite liked it, better than Izaya’s laugh; that one sounds way too fake, too forced for him to be comfortable.

 

“Shizuo-san, you look like you just got up. Is it fine if I make breakfast?” Chrome suddenly asks, peering at Shizuo, and the blonde former bartender realises just how dishevelled he is when he pulls his hand through his hair again, and grows red with embarrassment.

“I-I think I’ll take a shower. You can make breakfast if you want,” He doesn’t know why the hell he’s stuttering – in front of the flea look-a-like as well. The swelling and bubbling anger inside of him (angry and frustrated at his own reaction) is quickly smothered by Chrome’s grin, “Alright then.”

Shizuo pushes his chair back roughly against the floor – the legs screech against the floorboards – and he turns towards the bathroom.

“Thanks,” He mumbles, not entirely sure why his face is hot from that one grin from ‘Izaya’, and from behind him, Chrome calls, “Is a western breakfast okay?”

“Sure.”

 

Shizuo, in the shower, slaps himself a couple of times to get rid of the numbing, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

“What the hell is this..” He breathes as he splashes ice-cold water onto his face and his nose prickles at the smell of bacon drifting through the crack in his door.

To think that the man he had hated since high school in downstairs cooking for him and-

Well, did he really hate him? Actually, he thinks as he wrinkles his nose while he steps into the cool shower, he’s never really had a completely accurate to use with the flea bastard.

The water spurts slightly and Shizuo jumps, mind not on task and still lingering around Izaya’s name – it feels like it’s not actually him downstairs and-

No, no, no, it’s him and-

He slaps himself again.

This is so fucking cliché.

-.-.-

At the table, they’re both silent. There’s almost no sound except Shizuo’s ravenous chewing ( _“I didn’t have dinner last night,”_ He says sheepishly) and the black-eyed male’s carmine eyes sweep over Shizuo’s home.

He can see that most of the furniture is second hand, the rugs are stained and well-worn, tables chipped at the edges. He almost scoffs, but covers it with a cough. Noticing the blonde’s eyes on him, he decides that he should start a conversation of some sort.

“Shizuo-san, about the other day in the hospi – Shinra-san’s place, um..” He paused, searching through his words, “Is it alright for me to continue calling you ‘Shizuo-san?”

The taller man pauses with a mouthful of eggs, before cracking a smile, and red-brown eyes can see that the edges of his lips are quivering, just a bit.

“Sure, if you’re comfortable with it.”

‘Chrome’ says nothing in return.

-.-.-

It’s dinnertime, and in the midst of the chatter in Russia Sushi, a phone rings steadily, and Shizuo huffs as he flips open the screen and the flickering LED screen reads, and he mutters;

 

_[KISHITANI SHINRA]_

 

“Who’s that?” Chrome pokes his head over from the side, with a mouthful of fatty tuna, “Shinra-san?”

“Yeah,” Shizuo grumbles in return, “He’s probably going to start nagging me about Celty and how she rejected him or something.”

He presses the ‘accept’ button, a bright green, and Shinra’s obnoxious voice half screams through the receiver.

“Shizuo..!” Shinra sounded whiney, if anything, and launched into a full-scale rant vaguely about Celty in cosplay, a red mushroom, and spilt Mountain Dew.

“..Should I hang up?” Shizuo points towards his phone, and Chrome, with an amused smile on his face, nods.

“See ya.”

“Hey,” Shinra’s staticky voice wails, “Shizuo, wai-”

 

“Extra large plate ootoro, coming, coming,” Simon announces as he puts down a plate in front of Chrome, who beams happily.

 

(Ah, didn’t Izaya used to love..?)

Shizuo shakes his head furiously, earning a confused glance – several, even, and continues knowing on his teriyaki chicken.

(Nah, couldn’t be.)

-.-.-

Shizuo realises that Izaya could be a perfect housewife.

He slams his head into the nearest wall the second he thinks it, though, and it leaves good size dents around the house, because this wasn’t Izaya ( _wasn’t, wasn’t_ ) and he should be disgraced with himself thinking such a thing. ‘Izaya’ and ‘perfect’ should never belong in a sentence together.

Chrome then proceeds to lecture Shizuo off about the carpenter fees, maybe slipping a ‘Shizu-chan’ here and there to keep the blonde man focused.

Shizuo tries to convince himself that it’s still Chrome, and not Izaya, not Izaya who’s knocking a frying pan on his head and muttering ‘ _Shizu-chan’s_ such a klutz..’

 

He realises that he’s not even doing the chores anymore. Laundry, cooking, bed-making, even underwear shopping, Chrome’s efficient at them all and does them without much complaint. Everytime he sees the Izaya look-alike setting the table or the Izaya look-alike hanging up the washing or the Iz-

[Shizuo? Are you okay?] He finds himself with a PDA thrust in his face.

“No,” He replies simply, “Not really.”

[?] Was the simple reply, but at the same time, expressed Celty’s worry for her best friend, [What’s wrong? You can tell me, but you don’t have to.]

“…”

[..Shizuo?]

“Celty, uh..”

[?]

Shit, this was actually harder than he expected, putting a situation he was embarrassed about into words, even with his headless best friend. Shizuo twirled his fingers and sighed in exasperation.

“Izaya’s coming back to your place tomorrow, right?” He probed, fingers twirling faster now. Celty’s smoke wavered a bit in confusion and her fingers flew across the keypad.

[Yeah, why do you ask? I thought you knew.]

“It’s just..”

[Is this something about Izaya?]

“Fuck-!” Shizuo raised his voice suddenly, and Celty jolted and almost jumped up from fright, “The flea this, Kan – whatever that, and now some other weird personality and I’m fucking confused!” He fumed, fists clenched again, “It’s all that damn insect’s fault, I swear, if he turns out to be acting all this time..”

[Sh-Shizuo, calm down!] Celty tries her best to cool down her best friend’s – with anger management issues – burning flames with water, but she may as well be using gasoline [I’m sure that he wouldn’t be acting after all this, even he wouldn’t take it to as far as needing Shinra to operate on him! Hey, hey, Shizuo, not the table!]

“He’s so fucking self-conceited and thinks he’s all high and mighty and no one knows just how stupidly stupid he is and he’s stupid, stupid, stupid..” His gruff voice wavered out, and he tipped his head back and just groaned in exhaustion with a hand on his face.

[Shizuo.]

“Yeah?” He grunted, setting the coffee table back down.

[I think you’re in denial.]

“I am not.”

[Case in point.]

Shizuo rubbed the back of his head, “Argh, who cares? It’s not like I do.”

[I do, Shizuo, along with Shinra and Kadota-san and Tom-san and all these people.]

“You make it sound like I’m loved by the world,” Shizuo tries to refrain from scoffing, but does it anyway. Celty looks like she’s shrugging, but without her head, it’s kind of hard to tell. Shizuo breathes a heavy breath out.

“I-”

[You’re here about Izaya right?] Shizuo grunted, and the headless dullahan took it as an affirmative and kept typing, [How’s Chrome?]

“Fucking confusing names,” Shizuo snorted, fingers itching for a cigarette, but he managed to stop himself, seeing that Celty hated cigarette smoke in her building, “But he’s..”

[He’s..?]

“I feel like I’ve hired a damn maid,” The blonde debt collector turned his head away so Celty couldn’t see that his cheeks were red – he swears that it’s only embarrassment. Celty’s doubled over in silent laughter and bent over on her stomach.

[S-Seriously?] Shizuo groaned for the umpteenth time that day, it seems like.

“I’m sure you heard what I said. He’s able to cook, clean, wash, you name it,” He waved a hand around. Celty shivers, the imagery of Izaya in an apron and his creepy smile suddenly appearing in her head.

“Something wrong?” Shizuo turns his head over to his best friend, and Celty holds her hands up in a ‘no’ gesture, before picking up her PDA – now on the floor.

[Shinra’s once told me – I forgot when – that the alternate identities of DID sufferers still keep the abilities and hobbies that the original has.] Celty twirls her finger around playfully, and the ex-bartender raises as eyebrow, and does a double take.

“Wait, wait,” He sputters, “So you’re saying that Izaya does all this housewife shit in his spare time and he also likes it?!”

[I’m sure that’s a safe assumption, but I honestly can’t imagine it, I mean, Izaya in a apron..] Shizuo absolutely fell off his chair, “Holy shit!”

[Shizuo!]

“I don’t need anymore images like that,” Shizuo half-screamed, and Celty winced, before straightening up. [To change the topic of.. aprons,] She snorted, [I’m actually amazed you haven’t, you know, tried to punch Chrome through a wall yet.]

“Ah, fuck,” His fingers were twitching for his smokes again, “I guess that this personality’s tolerable, not like..” He frowned, “And I guess he was polite and all, even with that flea stench still there, but I gave him a chance.”

[You’ve improved, Shizuo.] Celty wanted to smile, and Shizuo’s mouth twitched upwards as well.

“I’m proud of myself too.”

[You should be.]

“It was kinda hard for the first few hours, with that urge to smash his face in, y’know, but I guess once I imagined that it wasn’t Izaya, but his twin or some shit I decided that he was okay after all, and I didn’t have to cook dinner ever since so none of my kitchenware got burnt.”

[..You sound like you’re getting attached to him.]

“Hu-uh?!”

[No, no, no, I mean..]

“That stupid flea’s still on my shit list.”

-.-.-

Back at the ex-bartender’s home, the black-haired boy sneezed twice and pinched his nose in annoyance.

 

_(Hey, hey, someone’s probably talking shit about you heh, you know how that superstition goes~)_

 

Izaya could practically hear Kanra’s mischievous smirk, and his eyebrow twitched as he flipped the page on his newspaper a little extra too roughly and the page ripped slightly.

“I thought you were still suffering from your car crash trauma, you fox.”

 

_(Aw, aren’t we both foxes here?)_

 

“Answer my question, Kanra.” If there was anyone else in the house, they would have probably thought that Izaya should be sent in for a mental check up. He wouldn’t just snorted that he was already mental.

 

_(You’re still no fun.)_

 

“Never was and probably never will be,” Izaya smirked silently to himself as he took another small sip from the convenience store coffee and almost gagged at the low quality taste. It was one of these many times that he wished that Namie was there with him. He actually quite liked her apart from the bitchy attitude, but he could just try to nag and smile through that and try to drag some emotions out of his secretary that wasn’t exactly ice-queen material.

 

_(What’s this~? Oh ho, are these your secret feelings for your secretary? How romantic, hahaha~)_

 

“What the fuck..!” He almost spat the coffee out, and wiped his lips, carmine eyes thinning by the second as he hissed, “ _Look_ , just because you’re not a _human_ I’m not here to play your matchmaker games-”

 

(Oh, who is it you _lo-ve_ then~? Shinra-san? Setton-san? Or perhaps _Shi_ -)

 

“I’m home, Chrome.” The door squeaked and Izaya tries to resettle himself as best as he possibly could, and he sent homicidal glares to basically no one in particular but himself.

 

“Welcome home, _Shizuo-san_ , dinner is on the table.”

-.-.-

 

_Unable to see anything but the horizon,_

_There’s nowhere left to hide ourselves._

_Words of the farthest ends, I seem to be able to say them,_

_And before we knew it, we were fumbling over eternity._

 

-.-.-

Eight – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you all believe me if I said that Kanra was about to say Shiki? 8D  
> Nah, I wouldn't even believe myself.


	9. Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denial isn't just a river in Egypt.

Nine.

_-.-.-_

_I’ve become worn out,_

_I gather up words,_

_To this feeling now,_

_To which I want to give a name._

_-.-.-_

“Hey, do you need me to send you over or anything?” Shizuo asked, eyeing his temporary housemate who was zipping his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder. Chrome shook his head without making eye contact, and said, “I’ll be fine. I know the way to Shinra-san’s place by heart.”

 _When did he memorize the route_? Shizuo was a bit in awe, since walking from his place to the underground doctor’s took a bit of time and had some turns too, but he shrugged it off anyways.

“Ah, before I go..” Chrome pointed back at the kitchen, “I left some homemade pudding in the fridge. Leave some for Kasuka-san though.”

“Huh?”

“Milk pudding,” Chrome deadpanned, sighing.

“Oh.. thanks..” Shizuo’s brain snapped back to reality – he really didn’t stay up late last night thinking about Celty’s words – and he laughed, “Sorry. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you for the accommodation,” Chrome smiled as he bowed slightly as if he was just entering someone’s home. Shizuo waved a hand dismissively, “No, no, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have you doing these chores.”

 

Chrome looked away with teasing eyes and a smirk – _IzayaIzayaIzaya_ – before rearing his head around and grinning, “Seeya around, Shizu-chan.”

-.-.-

“That’s enough playing around today, Shizu-chan, I’ve still got my last client waiting for me,” Izaya grinned, swiftly dodging another uprooted park tree – years of practice would always pay off after all. Shizuo roared, arm reaching for the green park bench.

_“Izaya-!”_

“Ah, would you please let me go just this once~?” Izaya was suddenly up close now in just a split second, leaning in like a mistress and eyes half-lidded, and whispered breathily, “ _I’ll be good, Shizu-chan.._ ”

“What the fuck are you..”

And that was all it took for the bastard of a flea to take the opportunity and slice at Shizuo’s wrist and jump back as fast as he leaned forward and he laughed haughtily, flick blade slipped in his pocket as he turned heel and gave a teasing wave, “Seeya around, _Shizu-chan!_ ”

-.-.-

“Shizu-chan?”

 

_“..Izaya, what the fuck you-”_

“ _Shizuo-san_!” Chrome called out again, prepared to jump back in case Shizuo’s anger took a sudden spike upwards. The blonde’s eyes registered that indeed, Izaya wasn’t there, and took several deep breaths – _breathe, in, out, in, he’s not_ _here_ – to calm himself down and realised that Chrome was still there (eyes more determined than scared) and he mentally slapped himself.

“Ah, s-sorry, Chrome, I just..”

“Oh, no, it’s okay.. I’ll be on my.. way..” Chrome looked hesitant for some reason, before he turned heel and ran, carrying his barrel bag with him.

 

Shizuo was left standing in the doorway alone and hair still tussled.

“Shit..” He muttered, holding his face in his face, “I couldn’t control it again..”

-.-.-

**(You let your guard down, didn’t you?)**

 

“Yeah, I did,” Izaya gritted, “I didn’t think that my nickname on him would have such an effect.” He paused, “Chrome?”

 

**(Yes?)**

 

“Where’s Kanra?” Izaya raised an eyebrow, knowing that the chatty alt would usually beat the more silent one of them three to the punch, usually weaving in some jest or pointless, teasing questions while she was at it as well. He ran a hand through his silky raven locks and waited for an answer.

**(I’m not sure either. But Izaya..)**

**(Shizuo-san cares about you.)**

-.-.-

_[Shizuo, I think you’re in denial.]_

_[You’re here about Izaya, right?]_

_[..You sound like you’re getting attached to him.]_

 

Shizuo grunted, taking another slow, long drag of his cigarette, not really noticing that it needed to be tapped, and soon.

He’s always taken Celty’s advice for him problems to heart, hell, she could even be a counsellor if she had the heart to.

 

But maybe this time, he wasn’t sure why, but he simply couldn’t accept what she said. Even repeating them like a mantra in his head – intentionally or not – or flipping them around on his tongue like trying to decipher a hard code, they didn’t really make sense in his mind at all.

 

_[You’re here about Izaya, right?]_

He wasn’t too sure just how his courier best friend came to that conclusion. He was there, that night – hell, just last night, actually – to try to ask Celty about.. Chrome.

Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask her about.

But it was _definitely_ not about that scumbag flea.

 

He scowls as some of the ashes from the paper rolled tobacco fall onto his shirt.

 

_[..You sound like you’re getting attached to him.]_

What the fuck, he’d never thought of ‘attachment’ to anyone other than his family, Celty and Tom. Maybe Vorona too.

 _But,_ his mind helpfully supplied to him, _this is ‘Chrome’ we’re talking about, not ‘Izaya’, right?_

He shakes his head as he digs his stub of a cigarette into the half-full ashtray.

 

(Chrome used to hate the smell of smoke.)

 

_[Shizuo, I think you’re in denial.]_

 

Shizuo’s eyebrow twitched as he decided that he should stop thinking about this matter and eat lunch already. It refuses to acknowledge the statement that practically went against his entire train of thought.

“Chrome,” He calls out of sheer habit, the new cigarette in his hand still not lit yet, “it’s lu-”

 

_[You’re in denial.]_

-.-.-

Shinra’s ears perked up as the door to his apartment opened with a small clunk. Eyes flickering over to Celty, who had also noticed the noise, he confirmed that it wasn’t his lover coming back home.

[Shinra? Is Shiki-san here?] Celty raised her PDA and started to reach for her helmet. Shinra cracked an unsteady grin, “Yeah, probably.”

“Kishitani-sensei,” Shiki acknowledged from their hallway, toeing off his shoes in favour of slippers, “I assume you’ve already guessed what I’m here for.”

“Oh, no,” Shinra lied through his teeth, but deep inside on himself, he knew it wouldn’t buy him nearly enough time to formulate a decent lie, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Shiki-no-danna. You didn’t call me beforehand so I don’t know anything. Ah, by the way..” He reached for the cupboard above the stove, feeling his smile start to go wooden around the edges, “Would you perhaps like some tea, Shiki-no-danna?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Celty, my dear,” The smile still remained, although it felt bitter to be directing something so faux at someone so dear to him, “Would you mind leaving us for a bit? I’m sure it won’t take long.”

Celty nodded slowly, [Alright, will do.]

“Thanks.”

[But,] She pointed the screen at him at an angle which only he could see, [Stay safe, Shinra.]

‘Love you too’ he mouthed silently, before walking over to the white-clad executive with steaming tea on a tray, and set it down on the coffee table in front of him. It was no surprise that Shiki gestured a hand to have one of his men taste it for poison first.

 

Shinra chuckled, “Still don’t trust me enough even after all these years, Shiki-no-danna?”

“It’s a safety precaution, it only comes naturally from being in a position such as mine. I trust Orihara-kun more than you, even if he’s a bit slippery.”

“I agree.” _This is starting going down a bad road_.

“Speaking of Orihara-kun..” Shiki sipped at his tea, raising an eyebrow almost as if he were challenging Shinra, “Which I’m sure you know that I’m here for..”

“..Yes?”

“I’d like to assume that you two were – and still are – close and in contact with each other. Recently, though, I seem to have lost contact with him in every way. Perhaps you have a method of engagement or..” Shiki’s eyes narrowed just the slightest, “You know where he is.”

 

 _Yeah, of course,_ Shinra bit his lip in consideration and maybe slight annoyance, _he’s lost his memories and developed two or more split identities and I as his doctor don’t know why the fuck he did what he did_.

 

He would have to be bat-shit insane or biologically related to Izaya to say that though, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Silence will only further compromise your position and rights, Kishitani-sensei.”

Shinra decided that zipping his lips would only force him to fall and gradually start to dig, so he let out a slow sigh – still unsure as to why he was staving off time when there was nothing to wait for – and opened his mouth.

“Yes, I indeed know where Izaya-kun is.” He almost winced involuntarily at his raspy voice, but a poker face was essential for communication with the underworld.

 

(Or so Izaya once said.)

 

His heart speeds up in its sprint at the thought, but his eyes are still locked onto Shiki’s nonetheless. Shinra could feel a drop of cold sweat starting to bead at his temples – if this was how the yakuza’s presence felt when being interrogated he couldn’t believe how Izaya made it through as the group’s regular informant in his younger days.

“..I’m waiting, Kishitani-sensei. I have my men all on standby in your hallway.”

Shinra grunted, realising that this man in front of him was of a position capable to demand someone to be shot in cold blood, and his cold fingers rubbed the teacup subconsciously.

Izaya-kun’s been in contact with me, and has always been,” He started, still indecisive on whether to weave this into a half-lie or just the entire truth altogether. None of the options seemed too appealing, “Just the other day-”

 

“Shinra-san?”

The brunette doctor froze on the spot.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had guests home..” Chrome fidgeted, peering at the buff yakuza bodyguards, “Please excuse me..”

 

Shiki looked just as disgruntled as the rest of his men.

 

_“Orihara-kun?”_

_-.-.-_

_It’s no good to just wish,_

_It’s no good to pray either._

_Just having faith alone can’t be allowed anymore._

_-.-.-_

Nine – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I introduce yet another CLIFFHANGER AND CHROME’S FIRST THOUGHT-SPEAK THINGY  
> For those who thought that Izaya was pretending (ehem kaabi ehem) cookies to all of you.  
> (Namie poisoned them)
> 
> I should make it clear that;  
> Kanra is in italics  
> Chrome is in bold  
> And Izaya’s just going to be regular font haha I’m sorry my little bb  
> Also I found this rolling girl x durarara thing on youtube and it'S SO PAINFULLY CUTE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW I MEAN IZAYA AND HIS ROLLING SKILLS  
> https://www.youtube (dot) com/watch?v=AeVQmvMgGlU


	10. Holographic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality hurts infinitely more than the nightmare.

Ten.

-.-.-

 

_I’m continuing to wander through a sleeping world._   
_I’m leaving myself to the other side of reality._   
_I’m beginning to be bound by the world I escape to,_   
_Continuing to be frozen on the other side of reality._

 

-.-.-

“Orihara-kun?” Shiki questions, and his tone is low and steady as if confirming something’s existence. Chrome looks slightly startled at the demanding tone and bows, barrel bag still in hand.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not this _‘Orihara-san’_ you speak of,” His expression was a perfect mask – no leaks, no semblance of emotion. Shinra was intrigued, if Izaya took off that smile of his, it would have been the exact same.

 “I see..” Shiki leaned back into his couch, eyebrows furrowed in thought, “Well then, I’m sorry to intrude so suddenly at your residence.” A small smirk was playing upon his lips, and Shinra frowned, obviously noticing something fishy about the way Shiki was reacting.

“It’s fine, sir, would you like anything to eat?” Chrome’s facial expressions were still unchanging, and it unnerved Shinra greatly to the point where he had to wipe off the sweat with his sleeves.

“I’m fine, thank you. Kishitani-sensei has already had the hospitality to serve me tea.” Shiki seemed to be observing Chrome’s body language, way of speaking, and facial expressions – anything – to try to drag out what tricks their slipperiest informant has up his sleeve. Shinra can safely say that he’ll find almost nothing.

 

“Shinra-san, where is Celty-san?” Chrome looks around like there wasn’t a calculating executive sitting on his make-shift guardian’s couch, and slips his bag off and onto the ground.

“A-ah, she had something to do, sorry Chrome-kun, she’ll be back soon,” Shinra forced a grin onto his lips, and it strained a lot more than he expected. Shiki took another reluctant sip of his tea before he stood up straight.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance today, Kishitani-sensei,” He holds out a hand, and the underground doctor takes it fairly warily, “It seems like my business here has concluded without much of your involvement. I’m sorry for intruding and it seems like I’ll take my leave now.” He motioned towards his nodding guards and turned.

“Please come again,” Chrome states, smiling slightly as he poured himself some water and Shinra almost winced at the cluelessness of the situation.

 

“I’ll be sure to,” Shiki’s mouth only pursed further into a thin line.

-.-.-

The second time Kanra stood in front of the door again, she felt relief, joy, glee shock-annoyance _angerfrustration_.

Loneliness.

 

( _Iza-chan._ )

 

There was only empty, hollow silence. It still rang in her ears, the dull, blunt, isolated sound of nothing.

 

( _I can’t come in if you don’t open the door_.)

 

The door was already open before the words were sprung out of her mouth, the dark mahogany creaking and swaying slightly on the hinges. Something stung inside of her (she didn’t know _shedidn’tknow_ ) and she bit her lips, wondering what the large lump in her throat meant (she hated not knowing _shehatedit_ ).

 

( _Iza-chan_.)

 

Her voice was raspy this time around.

The open door let through a cold, bitter draft from the other side, and Kanra pulled her twin pigtails closer to her face, still standing in the cold, in the dark. She shivered, clutching tighter onto the overcoat and buried her chin into her tie.

 

( _Even if it’s open, I still can’t come in if you latch the door_.)

-.-.-

“Chrome-san, I’m sure you had an idea of who that man was,” Shinra couldn’t help but let out a heavy-hearted exhale, finally and painfully glad that the whole ordeal was over for now-

(For now, _for now_ , a voice rang and laughed in his head.)

-and that they somehow both made it through without being dragged to the Awakusu-kai’s headquarters.

It was almost painful to him to see that cheeky twist of the lips, the sharp edge like a gleaming knife, and those ghostly, dark, eyes.

(The voice twirled and sang, it looks familiar, _familiar, familiar, haunting, daunting_..)

 

And then it was gone.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry, is he a high-status friend of yours? What’s his name?” Chrome asks from the kitchen sink, rinsing out the cup and drying it with a tea towel, an action so simple yet homely, and the bespectacled man swallowed as discreetly as he could and kept the smile up, straining and hurting more than ever like a double-edged blade.

“No, he’s of high rank, but don’t worry about him too much. You shouldn’t get involved with people like him-”

( _Shouldn’t be involved with people like you, then,_ the voice giggles again.)

“-anyways.”

Chrome raises an eyebrow, and says nothing in return.

 

“Ah, right,” Shinra doesn’t realise that his all-too-plastic smile was morphed into a thin-lipped grimace, and runs a hand through his hair, fingers reaching into his lab coat to grab his phone, “I wonder if Celty’s called me or something, I don’t want her to miss me~!” He doesn’t want to admit that his voice felt a bit too fake to his liking.

 

 

_ Celty _

_[Edit Contact]_

_[Block]_

5:52

_Celty_ : [Are we okay up there?]

 _Shinra_ : [Come home, Celty dear!]

 _Celty_ : [Alright, coming back now.]

 

 

“She’s coming home now,” Shinra grinned, pocketing his phone. It felt nice to hear Celty’s tone again and it lifted up his spirits even by just a little.

Chrome smiled in slight relief, and asked, “How was your father?”

The change of topic threw his for a loop, before sighing dramatically, “Really now, that old man never changes..” He holds a hand to his forehead, “So slimily eccentric and still as nonsense as always..”

Chrome smiled in return to the exasperated acting, “You sound like you care for him, though.”

“Ah, really? That old man?” Shinra pouted.

“Really.”

 

Something vibrated steadily in his pocket.

 

“Ah, hold on, I got a message,” He scoops out his phone, “I hope it’s from Celty..” He adds dreamily.

 

 

5:54

_Celty_ : [Actually, I just met Erika and Walker and they’re inviting us to sushi, is that okay?]

 _Shinra_ : [Seriously? Aw, I thought I would be able to eat your cooking tonight..]

 _Celty_ : [Answer my question..]

 

 

“My darling wishes to invite us out to a sushi date,” Shinra laughs as he twirls a finger around, and Chrome raises an eyebrow, amused.

Well, technically Yumasaki-kun and Karisawa-san.”

Chrome furrowed his brows a little, “Who.. are they?”

 

(Who are they _who are they_ he asks, he _asks_ , the voices taunt and point and mock.)

 

“Ah,” He waves his hand, “They’re kind of strange, but the good kind of strange, really,” He wants to laugh, but he doesn’t, “Don’t worry about it, they’re still nice.”

“Ah, alright.”

 

 

5:58

_Shinra_ : [Ah, fine, I’m bringing Chrome too!]

 _Celty_ : [Is everything okay Shinra? You took a while answering that one..]

 _Shinra:_ [It’s all fine, Celty! Just asking Chrome if he wanted to come. Tell them two not to make too much of a fuss when I bring him.]

 _Celty_ : [Ah, alright..]

-.-.-

“Shin-Shin!” Erika waves enthusiastically with Walker beside her, and Celty’s behind them, waving as well.

“Hey, Karisawa-san,” Shinra waves back and grins.

“Hey, hey, is that Iza-Iza?” Erika rears her head around Shinra – who’s trying to block her line of vision as best as he can – and frowns slightly.

“Iza-Iza? Are you okay?”

“H-hey, he’s fine, don’t worry about it..” Shinra tries to push Erika back from Chrome’s confused figure, “He’s just.. uh..”

“Hey, Erika-chan,” Chrome grins – wide and teasing – and waves, throwing both of them off the loop. Celty looks slightly bewildered and Walker raises an eyebrow.

-.-.-

Izaya makes a show of looking around, “Hey, where’s Dotachin and Togusa-san? Ah, I’m pretty sure that they would be with you two?” He sends another sharp grin.

“I-Izaya-kun..” Shinra is at a slight loss of words, and Celty looks like she just found an alien walking on the streets.

“They’re already at Russia Sushi reserving seats for us,” Walker smiles, pointing towards said sushi shop’s direction.

“Oh? Is that so? I’m feeling up to some otoroo today too!”

“Come on, you guys, Dotachin and Togusa are going to be waiting for us!” Erika whined slightly.

-.-.-

“Welcome, welcome!” Simon greets in his American-African-Russian accent – something that never gets old, Shinra notes with amusement – and from the corner of his eyes, he sees ‘Chrome’ pocket his phone.

 

(You’re doubting him, doubting, _doubting_ , the voice cackles again, and all Shinra wants is for it to _shut up_.)

 

“Simon!” Erika grins toothily, “Are Dotachin and Togusa in there?”

“Yes, yes, this way.”

 

“Hey, Shinra!” Kadota calls out, and seemingly startled when Chrome walked behind Celty (who was casting glances at him throughout the time).

“Ah, Dotachin! Long time no see!”

Kadota narrows his eyes slightly, eyeing also the others here, but he keeps his mouth shut. He considers it one of his virtues, being a neutral party and not poking his nose into personal businesses.

 

“Now then,” Shinra opens the menu, not too sure about the twisting feeling inside him every time he looks at the black-haired boy seated opposite him, “What do you guys all want to order?”

 

He catches a glimpse of blond.

-.-.-

**(..Izaya.)**

 

Kanra turns, eyeing Chrome – neat hair, purple eyes, standing straight – who walks to the front of the door. He repeats Izaya’s name, and pushes against the door, the frosty breeze now stronger than ever.

Kanra only watches in silence.

 

**(What do you think we are?)**

 

The door groans as it’s pushed and pushed, gently, gently, then firmer, more determined.

 

**(Where do you think we came from?)**

 

The latch bangs against the wood loudly, and freed from it’s restraints, the door swings open.

 

**(Why do you think we’re here?)**

 

Kanra doesn’t move.

Chrome doesn’t move either, one hand still gripping the doorway.

The mahogany door’s open, but none of them two dare to enter.

Kanra realises that she can’t feel the cold breeze anymore.

-.-.-

 

_I’m beginning to notice somewhere in my heart,_   
_I’m continuing to call out on the other side of reality._   
_I’m feeling something in the world I escape to._   
_I’m hurting someone on the other side of reality._

-.-.-

Ten – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to share my words of wisdom as of today to inform you all as to why it's been almost a week since I've updated.
> 
> "There are two types of true prisoners in this world - the military and the students." - Chairman Mao.
> 
> Translation: school is a bitch


	11. Fortitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't criticize what you can't see.

Eleven.

-.-.-

 

_The gears of the ages,_

_Ticking through time._

_Set course for the blue yonder,_

_Taking off.._

 

-.-.-

“Izaya?”

The black-haired male snaps his head up, to find his eyes locked into Shizuo’s.

“What are you doing here?” He feels his fists clench tightly, ready to send some punches, a reflex he’s developed over the many, many years of playing cat and mouse with the infamous information broker.

“H-hey, Shizuo..” Shinra looks like he’s trying not to wince at the interaction between the two. Izaya, on the other hand, looks slightly clueless, that bastard.

He hates Izaya’s annoying and stupid facades, hates them, and his fist unconsciously digs into his palm even tighter than before and the scenery blends, blends, blends.

 

He’s going to kill him.

_Kill._

_Kill._

_Kill._

_Ki-_

 

“Hello, Shizuo-san, how are you?” He cocks his head and puts his chopsticks down.

Shizuo lets his clenched hand go, and his mind finally catches up.

“Oh, uh,” He feels guilty, so guilty, for almost punching a defenceless and polite Chrome, “Hey, how are you, Chrome..?”

 

(He doesn’t know why Kadota and the others are giving him and Chrome both such strange looks. It unnerves him.)

 

“I’m fine, Shizuo-san,” Hearing his name lumped with a respectable honorific did nothing to help his shiver going down his spine at the rapidly-plummeting atmosphere of the room, “Are you here for sushi too?”

-.-.-

_“That just now was the last guy,” Tom pushed his glasses up, “I think. Hey, do you guys want to get some dinner or something? We finished up pretty early today, right?”_

_“Affirmative,” Vorona confirmed, “We should set out for a suitable location for dinner.”_

_“Er,” The debt collector in dreadlocks scratched his head, “So we should look for a place to eat, I guess?”_

_“Yeah,” Shizuo grunted, digging around for a spare cigarette – he needed them after his long and frustrating days at work, and they helped relieve and slide the tension and aches right off his back and shoulders._

_“Shizuo, is everything okay? You’ve been pretty silent today.” Whoops. He must’ve been too obvious in his moping – he doesn’t even know what he’s sulking about._

_He waved it off, “I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about.”_

_Maybe it’s about Izaya, that insect still plaguing his thoughts even at work. Just thinking about it makes his want to bash something in – preferably Izaya._

_Tom ‘hm’ed but said nothing, eyeing Shizuo’s clenched fists and small vein on his temple, followed by Vorona, who only eyed Shizuo every now and then to ensure that her senpai wasn’t in some sort of predicament, internal or not._

_“Sushi, anyone up for it?” Tom grinned as he pointed towards Russia Sushi, and Vorona eyed the place with interest while Shizuo shrugged._

_“Alright then.”_

-.-.-

“Hey, hey, Shizuo, where are you gone?” Tom called out from the bar area of the shop, and Shizuo realized that he was supposed to grab seats for his coworkers-turned-friends and hastily made his way back to the front, leaving a quick, ‘got to go, bye’ for the others.

Chrome narrowed his eyes as the blonde ex-bartender turned and left, a bit flustered in the process.

 

 _Hey, Izaya_ , Chrome thought, and the red-eyed man in his subconciousness sighed darkly, like he knew what his alt would speak up about, _how long are you going to keep this up for?_

 

 _(Kadota-kun and his little group and also Setton-san and that scientist probably know by now,)_ Kanra pointed out, voice strangely tight and controlled, _(Why are you faking all this shit anyways?)_

 

Izaya said nothing.

The latch on the door flew back on place.

 

 _(What the hell is all this for?)_ Kanra started raising her voice, her orange eyes flaring, _(Pretending in front of your friends? Why are you scared of telling them-!?)_

 

(I-)

 

 _(So you’re just going to wait until it all flies, it all spirals out of control? Huh? So I was still right, aren’t I-?! You’re a fool, a coward and a liar and I..! I..)_ Kanra heaved, shaking and none of the other two personalities dared to say anything.

 

 _(I wish I wasn’t part of you,)_ She spat, and she marched away from the other two, leaving nothing but the empty space that she used to reside in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Hey, Chrome.)

 

(What do you think about me then?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

“…”

“Chrome.. kun?” Shinra didn’t even sound sure in the words coming out of his own mouth anymore, “ _Are you alright?_ ”

There was drifting silence, thick and clogging in the atmosphere.

_No, he wasn’t alright._

[Chrome-san?] Celty tries, waving her PDA slightly in the man’s face, [You look pale, are you alright?]

“Chrome..?” Erika looks uncertainly at Shinra, expecting it to be some sort of secret code of communication between the two.

“He’s been acting out of it all night,” Togusa furrows his brows, “Kishitani-san, are you sure that he’s fine? He wouldn’t willingly come with us for sushi anyways usually.”

 

“Hey, he’s shaking,” Walker points out, and Kadota rushes over and tries to shake the pale figure in a fur-trim jacket.

“Izaya!” Shinra tries again, worry tinging the edge of his voice and frown growing by the second, “Can you hear me?”

 

 

Chrome says nothing to them, not bothering to correct them either, still trying to run his mind through Izaya’s words when he wasn’t even there anymore, locked behind his door again and leaving the alt standing in front of the barrier yet again, this time, without Kanra too.

Their minds are a mess – he can feel it, he shares it, after all – and he can’t pick out a single, stable thread out of the lump of tangled emotions and thoughts and god knows what else.

 

He’s always considered himself a peacemaker of sorts, even when he finds himself in the midst of two very contrasting personalities and in the body of a infamous underground information broker, and tried his best to do the other two favours in return for simple understanding of them two, so he could try his best to live just a little more peacefully.

He can’t comprehend – can’t understand just exactly why Kanra’s so blunt, why Izaya’s so roundabout, and why he himself can’t do anything to help them.

 

 

He doesn’t even realise that the main body’s fainted and collapsed while he left it, wandering through the oblivion of the subconsciousness.

-.-.-

“Hey, hey!” Kadota yelps, “Hang in there, Izaya, woah-!” He’s holding a limp and pale Izaya in his hands, with sudden eyebags and shallow breathing, and Shinra’s over him in a split-second, two fingers pressed on the chest to scrounge for any abnormalities in the heart beat.

“Get Simon or Dennis,” He hears Kadota bark to Togusa, but his mind is more occupied with possibly saving a life.

Shinra realises that his entire body in covered in cold sweat and his pulse racing like a marathon competitor. He knows, even through the thick and thin bluff and masks and whatever the hell there is, he can’t deny that he’s scared, that he’s worrying over someone who barely even worries for themselves.

He knows that Izaya’s a stubborn guy, refusing to acknowledge his own weaknesses, his own flaws, and that when he tries to carry himself taller and mightier than ever, that’s when he’s finally breaking down.

 

He’s breaking down along with Chrome and Kanra, dragging them into the depths.

He’s selfish, all too selfish.

 

“Izaya,” He breathes, feeling the rib-cage bone beneath his pale skin-

 

(He’s all too thin, _alltoothin_ , the voices scream and holler.)

 

“Hear me, I know you can hear me, say something, dammit,” He whispers, hand subconsciously reaching for Izaya’s hand – cold, clammy and distant.

Shinra admits he’s more of an external doctor than a psychological one. He’s never taken much interest in the human mind, too fussy and complicated and utter rubbish to him, goes in one ear and comes out the other.

He thought that all he needed were surgery skills and perhaps some knowledge of prescription pills and that would suffice him enough through his illegal underground doctor career and maybe also help his friend while he was at it.

 

 _Boy,_ he thinks bitterly, _was I wrong._

 

“Should I call the ambulance for Iza-Iza?” Erika asks worriedly, hands already in her bag rummaging for her phone, “Will he be alright?”

Shinra doesn’t know if he should say ‘yes’ or ‘no’, so he doesn’t say anything at all, checking the wrist pulses and insides of eyelids and whatever else he can remember from his medical books.

 

 

 

_Postural hypotension?_

_No, no, no, he’s been sitting upright the entire time._

_Dehydration?_

_He’s been drinking tea the entire time..!_

_Not transient ischemic attack either.._

_Cardiac causes?_

 

 

 

His fingers press against the chest again, and the heartbeat is slower this time, more and more sluggish, and Shinra feels his blood freeze in their veins, and his fingers just can’t move.

 

Celty places a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder.

[ _Shinra_.]

 

It’s all he needs.

“Call the ambulance, Karisawa-san.”

“On it,” Erika’s punching in 119 with one finger while the other’s zipping up her bag and all the while her eyes are on Izaya’s still form with concern.

 

“..One of my friends fainted. Yes, at Russia Sushi, in one of the rooms..”

 

“Everything okay?” Simon frowns as he peers through the doorway, behind Togusa, eyes flipping back and forth between different people before finally landing on Izaya, “Iza-ya okay?”

Celty rushes up to him, [He’s fainted for some reason, and Shinra’s trying to do what he can.]

“Call ambulance?” Simon frowns even more.

[No need, I think Erika-chan’s doing that right now.]

 

“Hey, is everything okay in here? I hear a lot of noise going on..?”

Kadota peers up, “Shizuo?”

-.-.-

Izaya feels like he’s woken up from a dream.

The first thing he does is choke on the air and cough, eyes tearing up at the brightness of the lights overhead and grabbing at his chest.

 

He grabs a hand instead.

 

“..Izaya?”

Izaya doesn’t have to focus his vision to know that it’s Shinra – that stupidly annoying voice since high school – and struggles to sit up, barely comprehending that Kadota’s trying to hold him down.

 

 

 

_(Why are you faking all this shit anyways?)_

He has the urge to vomit, stomach lurching and his entire vision exploding into blurs and neon dots as he sits up suddenly. Everything feels hot and cold and hot all at the same time, and he lies back down with heavy breaths of air.

“Fuck..” He gasps, voice hollow and raspy, and he silently curses Chrome for letting go of the main control, “What gives..?”

 

 

 

_(What the hell is all this for? Pretending in front of your friends? Why are you so scared of telling them-!?)_

 

 

 

The nausea hits back like a tsunami wave, and there’s now an insistent pounding in his skull, his ears ring, it all feels just fucking down the drain for him.

Everything hurts like hell.

 

_“Izaya!”_

“Where the hell are you going?”

 

He pushes past Kadota, flings Shinra to the side, almost knocks Celty over in desperation and pushes towards the bathrooms, flinging the door open and upheaving his stomach into the porcelain bowl. Izaya’s breathing is jagged, heavy panting fills the room before he throws up a second time, slumping to the ground and fur-trim jacket sliding off his shoulders.

 

(Hurts. It hurts.)

 

“And I thought I was a masochist..” He grins half-heartedly to himself, grip loosening on the toilet bowl before leaning against the bathroom wall, and exhales. The nausea still lingers and his migraine probably isn’t leaving anytime soon.

 

He doesn’t even hear the door open.

 

“Hey,” He doesn’t even have to lift his head up to know that it’s Shizuo, “Who is this?”

“Haha, the one that isn’t a girl and doesn’t cook sandwiches for you, protozoan,” He doesn’t bother with the snark in his voice – not when the room is spinning and he feels like he can’t feel his legs anymore.

Izaya literally hears Shizuo clench his fist, and breath deep to try to calm himself down – it’s not worth it to hit an enemy (no matter how much of an insect) when they’re down – and spoke, “So you don’t have amnesia.”

“..That’s a huge pink elephant in the room, Shizu-chan.”

He grunts and tries to heave himself up, realising that he looks utterly low and deplorable on the ground trying not to sway and lose consciousness in front of his mortal enemy – who seems to think that Izaya’s probably just pathetic right now.

“..Ulp..”

“Woah, hey, hey-! Don’t move, I’m getting Shinra!”

“Back off, you monster!” Izaya growls, swatting a weak hand at the blonde debt collector, “I don’t need your compassion!”

“Because you don’t even have a heart to hold my fucking compassion!” Shizuo snaps back, “Hold still, I’m getting Shinra, dammit!”

 

The vision blurs and he realises that he’s swirling out of conciousness.

“Fuck, Shizu-chan.. I don’t need your.. pity..”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_(Fool.)_ **

-.-.-

“Shinra! Why didn’t you come in?” Shizuo yaps, bodily dragging the back-alley doctor towards the bathroom door, “He’s not good right now!”

[Shizuo! Calm down, and let go of Shinra! Please!]

“No, I’m not, that idiot in there with his poor life decisions is probably dying for all I know!” The blonde glares back at Celty.

“Shizuo, I’m sure he’s not dying,” Shinra cuts in between them, eyes hard yet pleading at the same time, and Shizuo takes a deep, deep breath – _don’t let the temper get to him_ – and swings open the door with the doctor and dullahan in tow.

 

Izaya’s slumped down again and Shizuo stops breathing for a second.

Shinra’s beside him again with palm to the chest and forehead and he smiles weakly.

“He’s just fainted from exhaustion.”

“..That’s good.” Shizuo doesn’t know why he said it, and Shinra clears his throat in understanding.

“We should get him to my home.”

“…”

-.-.-

“There’s something that bothers me,” Shinra wonders aloud to Celty, who he was snuggling close to on their couch, watching a programme on stingrays and marine creatures (for once, not aliens). Celty looks over to Shinra with an unspoken ‘go on’ and Shinra shakes his head lightly, and says, “Izaya,” He sneaks a glance over to the raven lying in their room, “I think that he’s got anxiety as well as the split personality.”

[I’m not too surprised,] Celty writes, sighing, [He looks like the type. What tipped you off?]

“How he acted in Russia Sushi – nausea, vomiting, fainting – these are all part of severe anxiety symptoms, I remember from one of my books,” He frowns, fingers still entwined with the dullahan next to him. Celty stays silent.

 

[…Are you concerned for him?]

“..Ah, well,” The white-coated doctor scratches his cheek hesitantly, “I guess I am.”

[It’s only natural.]

“Yeah. I know. It’s just that normally he comes waltzing into our home with that stupid smirk and cuts and bruises from Shizuo, acting all haughty, I just can’t..”

[…]

“..I just can’t see that man lying in a hospital bed from a car accident or acting a completely different life or vomiting in a restaurant washroom. It’s like his entire life was a whitewash.”

David Attenborough’s voice fades progressively into the background.

[‘ _Pride is the mask of one’s faults_.’]

“Celty?”

[Ah, no, it’s an old Jewish proverb I’ve heard somewhere. I think it suits Izaya a lot, considering that no matter how much he deems himself as a ‘godly’ figure, he’s-]

“He’s still a human. Isn’t that right?” Shinra grins briefly, “As human as they can get.”

 

The documentary’s displaying a picture of a Lion’s Mane jellyfish, and Celty shivers.

 

[Hey, Shinra.]

He looks over, “What is it?”

[How would you define ‘human’?] Celty cocks her head gently.

“Ah..” Shinra grimaces, chewing on the inside of his mouth and picking out his words as best as he can, “I guess, from a doctor’s point of view, there is to be a certain formation of the two-hundred and sixteen adult bones to support the muscular system in a way that the body can be shifted upright on the two legs, and that the cardiovascular system is required to-”

[No, no, no,] Celty shook her head furiously, [I mean, let’s strike an example, would you consider me to be a ‘human’?]

Shinra inspected Celty for a moment, considering and trying to intercept her words, and split a grin, “Of course you’re a human to me, Celty-darling!”

[But then what about in other’s eyes?]

Shinra’s grin wavered.

“Ah.”

[I don’t think it’s a matter of what you ‘should’ be and what you ‘should’ do, well,] She typed, [I think it’s based on personal opinions of the people around us, and our own thoughts too. I am considered a monster by many people, something from out of the ordinary, but to you, Shizuo, Anri-chan, and the likes, I’m probably considered a ‘friend’, or something of their level.]

“Ah, so Izaya considers himself a godly figure, yet, we and many others consider him a human by instinct, by his outer appearances or attitude and the fact that at first glance he isn’t so different from the rest of us, but what I don’t understand is-”

[Do you remember what Izaya said once when he came over to ask you for some eye drops because he spent too much time on his laptop?]

“..?”

[‘No one but Orihara Izaya should be able to best understand Orihara Izaya.’]

“I remember.”

 

Shinra’s eyes trail over to the scrolling credits being displayed on the TV.

 

[So we can’t put ourselves in his position and assume things about him, because we don’t understand his thought processes, his interests and his dislikes, don’t truly understand his hobbies, and maybe don’t really know what’s hiding under that rock-hard mask of his that he’s wearing night and day and night again,] Celty concludes, fingers hovering languidly over the keys. Shinra groans.

“So basically, we’re not Orihara Izaya-”

 

“My, my, I’m honoured, are you two talking about me? I always like to think of myself in the center of things.”

Shinra shifts from his spot so he’s facing Izaya, “We were talking about how much of a headache you are, really.”

“Ah?”

[Shinra..!]

“Ahaha,” Shinra chuckles, “Just kidding. I’m sure you’ve dropped in on our entire conversation already. How are you feeling?” He rises up from the couch.

“Better.” The tone is nonchalant, but Shinra can feel the underlying gratitude, and he smiles, “That’s good.”

Izaya sends a counterfeit annoyed look which Shinra can peel away easier now that he _understands_.

“What time is it?”

“Ten past eleven. You still hungry?”

“..Sort of.” Izaya’s ears are dusted pinkish, “Didn’t exactly have enough to eat before I-”

Shinra beamed, “Great! I had the otoroo as take-away. It’s in the fridge.”

Izaya sighs but Shinra still picks up the minuscule twitch of the mouth, and he can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, and you’re answering some questions regarding what you were doing at Russia Sushi while we’re gonna eat, yeah?”

Izaya trips on his feet and Shinra’s laughs transforms into guffaws.

-.-.-

 

_..But that day is distant._

_I,_

_Reflected on the sparkling water’s surface,_

_Am fleeting;_

_Ready to disappear at any moment._

 

-.-.-

Eleven – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo I've decided to try and write longer chapters from here on because it's getting really tedious having to search up decent lyrics for the beginning and the end for all of my chapters (and also because I'm going to have to get used to writing longer lengths haha)  
> I made minor edits to this chapter because I had this typed out quite a while ago (currently writing chapter 13) and it seemed somewhat chunky, this whole chapter.  
> It still feels chunky to me. Ah well, I'm lacking sleep with a headache and sore eyes and I'm really not in the mood for major editing right now.


	12. Falsities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am surrounded by lies, and it is suffocating me."

Twelve.

-.-.-

 

_Sometimes I lose track of_

_Whether this body of mine,_

_Is feeling happy or sad._

 

-.-.-

“Why were you faking in front of Kadota and his group?”

 

“Now isn’t that just peachy? Don’t you and Celty ever go out to buy soy sauce every once in a while? I’m sure you must have some. How would I eat my otoroo then?” Izaya frowned as he rummaged through bottles, eyes scanning over the bottle labels and sighing tediously as he placed them back.

Shinra’s smile turned fairly homicidal.

[Soy sauce is in the second cupboard from the left from the ventilator.]

“Ah, thank you, Celty~” Izaya grinned, partially at Shinra and his spasming smile, “Now, Shinra, what were you saying?”

“You’re such a dickhead.”

“It is not biologically possible to have a reproductive male organ as a head and vice versa. You should know that better than anyone, Shinra.”

“You heard what I was asking.”

“Well, that’s certainly very circumlocutory isn’t it? You say a lot of things.”

Shinra wrinkled his nose frustrated.

“You’re not answering the question, you convoluted bastard.”

“Well, yes, yes, I get that a lot.”

“So?”

“Look, Shinra,” Izaya waves his hands, but Shinra can catch the small shaking of his pinky finger, just enough to show that he’s not prepared for all this just yet, and probably never will be, “I’m.. give me time. I need to figure myself out before I start answering questions.”

Shinra blinked, this was new. The Izaya he knew, famed, proud, untouchable underground information broker of Shinjuku and veering on the edge of danger day by day, seemingly perfect in all he does and all he is, was lacking confidence in himself and that-

 

 

 

 

 

_“I could have saved him.” His voice was raspy and hopelessly wistful, “I could have done more. More, more, more.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

-No, no, no, no, _no that’s wrong_ -

 

 

 

 

 

 

_[‘Pride is the mask of one’s faults.’] Celty points at her screen, deep in thought._

_“But what caused it?” Mikado asked, worry dying the edges of his voice._

_Masaomi’s eyes were still trying to cling onto a brittle precipice of hope, “Chrome-san, do you really not..?”_

_“I should be the only one that can hurt you, Shinra.”_

-That’s all wrong he’s _wrong_.

 

He says nothing to Izaya for the rest of the night.

-.-.-

The bell rings tediously, and Celty rushes over to open the door, glancing at the clock – seven in the morning – on the way, and wonders who on earth could have business with either her of Shinra on a peaceful Sunday morning.

She’s a bit taken back by who she finds at the other side of the door, though.

“Sturluson-san, I’m presuming that Izaya’s here.” Namie narrows her cold eyes not unlike a cat in a distrustful stance and the head-lacking dullahan nods cagily.

[He’s still sleeping, but you’re welcome to come in. Would you like tea?]

Namie toes off her shoes at the entrance and queries, “That’s odd, he’s normally a disgustingly early riser.” Celty winces, but makes her way into the kitchen while the brunette secretary makes herself at home and looks around, as if she hasn’t been there before. She places down several plastic bags down onto the rug and turns her head to face the black-clad dullahan.

“Do you make a habit of serving tea every time you receive guests?”

[It’s.. something like a habit, yes, and also courtesy, at least, I think..] Celty looks unsure herself, even without a head. Namie only nods in acceptance of the reply, before standing up to help Celty with the kettle, “Careful. Close the lid tight or it might get blown off by the steam.”

[Thank you.]

 

“Do you like to cook?”

Celty follows her guest’s sharp gaze to her cookbook on the bench-top.

[I’m still trying to learn. It’s a bit of a chore to make food yourself when you can go out to eat, but Shinra insists that he finds my cooking favourable. I like to make hot-pots because they’re easy to set up and offer variety.]

Namie’s lips purse upwards, “I see. Hot-pot, hm?”

[Yes.]

“If I recall correctly, hot-pot’s traditionally eaten with family and friends during winter.” She’s earned a nod, and Namie’s minute smile folds up into a thin-lipped frown, “What if you don’t have any to eat with?”

[Are you concerned for your employer?] It was one of the moments where Celty was glad that she didn’t have a head at that moment, otherwise the haughty woman in front of her would have caught the dullahan’s soft smile.

“No, I just,” Namie shifts her weight onto her right leg and huffs, “Feel pitiful for him, actually, who’s heard of someone so detached and utterly sociopathic and egoistical yet without people close to him? Not even his siblings?”

[Uh, Yagiri-san, I-]

 “And someone who picks out information for a living doesn’t even know jack shit about himself. I can read him better than he can read himself now, that bastard.”

[Yagiri-san, please-]

“Which room is he in? I’m going to take a look at his measly soul and laugh at it.”

[He’s in the main bedroom..]

-.-.-

“How was sleeping on the sofa?” Izaya laughed sardonically, and Shinra sighed, fingers rubbing at his temples.

“I’ve given you enough time.”

“For-?”

“Stop stalling.” He fixes his glasses and the raven-haired male acknowledges that he’s getting nowhere.

Izaya’s face fell into a uniform slate, before heaving a deep breath through his nose and leaning back onto a pillow. Shinra peers over at him expectantly.

 

“Who are Yumasaki Walker and Karisawa Erika?”

Shinra looked genuinely confused at the sudden enquiry.

“Yumasaki-kun and Karisawa-chan are Yumasaki-kun and Karisawa-chan.”

“That’s a _very_ circular definition, Shinra.”

“I don’t know what point you’re trying to get across here.”

Izaya narrowed his eyes as he engaged in a metaphorical staring contest with the plain white ceiling, “Let me rephrase that. What do you know about Walker-kun and Erika-chan?”

Shinra bit his lip, “I..”

“I’m waiting.”

“…”

“‘ _I know nothing about them’_ , isn’t that what you’re meaning to say?” Izaya hummed, and dug his fingers into the bed. The words ‘and you know nothing about me either’ drifts sluggishly between them, unsaid and undenied.

“And your point is-”

“Looks can be deceiving. Them two are far sharper and know vastly more than you think they do. Take an example, say, ah, Shizu-chan, what would people think of him outside of Ikebukuro?”

“..He’s harmless. Maybe a bodybuilder or something.”

“Exactly. It’s the same with Erika-chan and Walker-kun. You don’t know a majority of them. You don’t know what they know.”

“And why would you?”

Izaya laughed mockingly, “Are you forgetting what I am, Shinra? Oh dear, oh dear. You’ve never seen Walker-kun set fire to someone before?”

“-What-”

“What I’m trying to tell you is that,” His carmine eyes turn steely, “You’re too naïve, Shinra, there’s always another side to every person that they don’t want anyone to see.”

 

A knock, two knocks. Shinra turns his head, and Izaya does the same.

 

[Ah, so you two _are_ in here.]

“Celty? Oh, is that-”

“Who are you and what did you do to Yagiri Namie,” Izaya glared with no small amount of scepticism, and Namie only groaned in exhaustion, and muttered, “This again. Please do realise that I am a human with a soul who can be ‘concerned’ for someone, unlike the person I’m here to see.”

“I would appreciate that statement without the air quotes, please,” Her employer half-snapped and the long-haired brunette woman growled.

“Be quiet for once, can’t you see that you’re being a colossal stick in the ass for all the people around you-?!”

“Well that’s great, because I don’t need ‘compassion’ and all that shit, I’m just fine, yeah?” Izaya’s patience was rapidly diminishing, and the recurring headache wasn’t helping him in the slightest, and Shinra eyed Celty from the corner of his eye, to find her looking between the two bickering coworkers – always the peacemaker.

“Oh, you – you call yourself fine?” Namie spat with a lethal dose of venom, “Look at you, holed up in here, forgetting all your priorities and being all stubborn and denying everything when it’s all in front of you on a fucking silver platter-!”

 

Namie breathed heavily, and no-one dared to break the drifting silence.

Then Izaya laughed, hoarse and grating like rough sandpaper, more out of sheer hysteria than amusement.

Shinra couldn’t help but cover his ears and look away, and found out that Celty did the same, and Namie only stood in frustration and helplessness.

Izaya clutched at his waist, his chortle nothing short of mania and Shinra realises through his hand-covered ears-

_(“There’s always another side to every person that they don’t want anyone to see.”)_

 

-That the laughter is nothing but sound.

-.-.-

 

_(It’s cold.)_

**(Are you still there?)**

 

_(It’s really cold.)_

**(What are you doing?)**

 

_(I’m so sick of it.)_

**(Why are you doing this?)**

_(I’m so sick of you.)_

**(I just don’t understand.)**

_(I’m just lonely.)_

-.-.-

“Are you sure of this, Haruya?” Akabayashi whistled, casting Shiki a quick glance – nothing harmful – and saw that his boss’s face was tired and pale, and quickly refocused his line of sight.

“Yes. We’re going to need Orihara-kun to either react or if he’s actually no longer much use to us. Set fire to the outside of the fox’s den and smoke him out, as they say. If we can’t get him to move as his own chess piece, we’ll make him move.”

“You’re more talkative than usual, Haruya. Is it because you don’t want to do this?”

“One more word and you’re receiving double paperwork, Mizuki.”

“Yes, yes.”

 

“Shiki-no-danna, we’re ready to enter the building. Orders?”

“Storm the apartment.”

“Yes sir, right away, sir.”

-.-.-

Namie honestly didn’t know what to expect when she unlocked the door to the apartment, left hand folding the sign-in paper with practiced motion, and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart – stop it stop it _now’s not the time_ – and fingers turned the cold doorknob briskly, but she didn’t open the door.

 

All she was here for was _that_ , and she’d just _borrow_ it for a few days or something, it’s not that big of a deal, and maybe he wouldn’t even notice that it was moved. She hoped, because somehow the situation at hand made her feel sick.

“I mean, how hard would it be to just retrieve that for a few days and study it for a few days, a mindless and bodiless-”

 

She creaked open the door to Izaya’s living room and registered a gun at point blank in front of her face.

 

“- _Head_..?”

-.-.-

(Shut up, shut up, _shut up.)_

-.-.-

 

_Sometimes I lose track of whether,_

_What lies beyond the mirror is_

_The truth, or just light._

 

-.-.-

Twelve – end.


	13. Encompass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love thy enemies.

Thirteen.

-.-.-

_We’re going down,_

_(We’re falling into a looping world,)_

_Look around,_

_(What can you see?)_

 

-.-.-

“Hello, Shiki-no-danna, what brings you here today?”

She tries to pretend that her hands weren’t shaking and that she wasn’t breaking into a cold, clammy sweat and that _she isn’t as transparent as she thinks she is_.

“Yagiri-san,” Shiki only nods, and gently lowers his hand with the gun, but cautiously doesn’t flick the safety back on, “Please don’t mind our presence. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

‘ _Please don’t mind our presence_ ,’ Namie gripes internally, but she’d prefer to feign ignorance for now, to save her head and maybe the rest of herself along the way.

Something in a jar catches her by surprise.

 

The dullahan head.

 

_Fucking shit Seiji protect me._

 

“Very well then,” It’s painfully difficult to keep her voice steady and tight – _controlled_ around this yakuza representative, and she’s using a dangerous amount of her willpower not to crumple under Shiki’s immense aura surrounding him – how has he not _suffocated_ already that bastard – or fly into a rage and subconsciously try to shoot the goon holding the head in his hand with her illegal Type-52 pistol she’s got stashed in her handbag at all times for emergencies, and _this_ situation definitely was one.

She bites her lip tightly and tried to fend off the urge to furrow her brows as she tries to weigh on the current scene and pros and cons; it’s important to keep her cool – keep calm fuck, fuck, _fuck._

She’s borderline backing out of here and it hasn’t even being some five minutes yet. Oh, woes.

 

Cons; she can scrape some off the top, bottom and maybe the two sides of her head in just about a millisecond and a half.

Since they’ve found the head (how did they, _how dare they_ ), it can only spell trouble for Izaya, seeing how this could be used as dirt against their best but most slippery informant and certainly put Yagiri Pharmaceuticals in a difficult and most likely highly risky position, using information of the head in some way to attract that Nebula company and have her company at stakes, with their lower power and resources.

The dullahan head would also attract attention from the more isolated but influential yakuza groups from the outer-regions, and that spells trouble to Ikebukuro one way or another, if Awakusu decide to head down that route.

Also for Celty Sturluson, who may just do almost anything to take her head back. Namie almost snorts, instead coughs, at that train of thought.

 

 _Pros? Haha, positive aspects my ass and foot_ , she clenches her fist and she stands by the side and fingers itch slowly, so slowly, towards her gun, _maybe Izaya’ll have a jolly good time laughing at this one and break a rib or two while he’s at it. That’s good._

 

She fully knows that she’s being sarcastic, but being the type who sits around and tries to ‘understand her budding feelings’ just isn’t her.

So she speaks.

“Shiki-no-danna, you may like to take anything you need from Orihara’s apartment, but I would like to strike a negotiation about a very..” She flickers her eyes to the ginger-haired head, “..Particular specimen.”

Shiki raises an eyebrow, “Yagiri-san, I assure you, we are just going to borrow this head for some time, to make sure that Orihara-kun is still responsive and _loyal_ to us during his.. unfortunate recuperation period-”

“That’s a fresh way to describe it.”

Shiki paid no attention to the remark, “-And if not, we’ll be employing this head as a straight-forward precautionary method.”

 _In other words, blackmail,_ Namie thought exasperatedly, but she hardly showed it on her exterior, “I see.”

“We mean Orihara-kun no harm.”

 

 

His words didn’t reassure her at all.

-.-.-

“Also, Izaya, I got a call from Shiki the other day.”

“Hm..?” Izaya’s eyes sharpened, “Anything I should be aware of?”

“Well..” Shinra seemed sheepish as he rubbed his eyes, “He was asking how you were feeling..”

“..That doesn’t sound like him. Are you positively sure, Shinra?”

“Maybe.”

Izaya almost cackled, “I’ll need better than that, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shinra rolled his eyes dramatically, “Do you think the Awakusu-kai’s starting to move around backstage somehow? Shiki looked slightly shifty the other day, or was it just me? What do you think, Izaya?”

“Ah.. I haven’t..”

The doctor looked over to his childhood friend and mock-gasped, “The great, great Orihara Izaya _doesn’t know_ something!”

“No, no, no, Shinra, I was.. Argh, cut that out - _ow, ow, ow_ , stop poking me, dammit!”

“Not until you tell me your thoughts~”

“Well, excuse me, I was originally planning to until some freaky dullahan-obsessed underground doctor started poking me before I could start with his sharp-ass fingernails-!”

“Well, not everyone files their nails once every two days like you do, girly-man.”

“..Kishitani-goddamn-Shinra!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “What makes you so sure?”

They both know what he’s referring to, and Izaya sighed through his nose, and picked at the non-existent dirt under his nails, “I’ve known Shiki for years, Shinra, and even if it’s harder than usual, I can still pick out signs. He’s a human as well.”

“So you love him as well?”

“Why, of course! Why do you ask?”

Shinra desperately tried to push down the bubbling snort, “No, no nothing. But it did strike me as strange when you..”

“Shinra?” Izaya asked.

“No, no, nothing, I forgot what I was about to say,” Shinra laughs with nervous tension, “But I’m kind of curious, Izaya? What does it feel like with your DID?”

“Ah, you do know that it was… that.”

“Cut that out, Kida-kun told me.”

“I see.”

 

Izaya closed his eyes and listened intently to the heartbeat thumping in his ear.

He just needs a second, sometimes, to stop the voices whispering, whispering, whispering in his head.

Shinra waits for him, knowingly.

 

 

 

 

(I don’t need you all I don’t need you all.)

(Be quiet be quiet please please please.)

(I can’t hear myself anymore. Can’t hear can’t _breathe_.)

 

 

 

 

“I hate it. I hate this part of me.” The words come out as a whisper.

 

“Why?”

“I don’t need your pity,” He snaps.

“I wasn’t giving you any.”

“That’s good.”

“Why do you hate them two? There shouldn’t be a reason to simply despise an extra part of you that much. It’s like hating your extra tooth that grows out just before your old one drops out, or an ingrown toenail, maybe, maybe..”

“Shinra. Stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

“…”

“Are you going to contact Shiki?”

“In this unreliable state?” A hollow giggle, “ _Never_. I’d like it if you were the only one to see me like this.”

“That’s reassuring yet alarming at the same time.”

_“That’s me.”_

“Knowing the Awakusu-kai..” Shinra blinks uncertainly, “They never take their chances, so maybe.. maybe they’d use their leverage to secure the fact that you’re not going under their radar or retaliating suddenly against them, using your condition as an excuse..?” Shinra stroked his chin in thought.

“Try harder, Shinra, if that was the case, I would be in their detainment right about now.”

“Ah, good point there.” A hand is lugged through chestnut-brown locks, “I’m no informant though, nor do I understand the underworld to your extent, so if you’d so kindly contribute-”

“Maybe it’s personal.”

Shinra glances over through the light of his glasses and his eyes scream ‘why do you think that?’ Izaya hums from the back of his throat. The underground doctor beside him motions him slightly impatiently to ‘go on’.

“Call it a gut feeling.”

Shinra leans in presumptuously and grins, and Izaya bristles like a territorial iguana.

“I thought great, great informants like such never take their ‘gut’ feelings into account, eh? What changed since I went to bed on the couch last night?”

“Everyone changes, everything changes, at one point or another. That’s an inane question.”

“I see your snark is back and in fully working condition. That’s good, at least, yeah?”

Izaya snorted, whacking Shinra’s hand away and his eyes twinkled with renewed mirth.

 

He hadn’t felt this uplifted in so, so long.

-.-.-

“Shiki-sama,” Namie tries again, ankles undoubtedly buckling slightly now, “If we could just-”

“Silence.” The executive’s tone was sharp and brisk, almost like he wasn’t willing to do what he was doing in the first place, “I’ve no need for petty negotiations or excuses.” He gestures towards Celty’s head, “Take it to the car. I’ll be down in a few seconds.”

 

“Shiki-sama..!”

He turns to face Namie with a hard look in his eyes, “Yagiri-san,” His voice is quiet but deadly like seeping venom, “What changed between you and your hatred for your employer?”

Namie falls into a bewildered silence, before her knees give way and she collapses into her knees on the wooden floor. Shiki gives her nothing but a disapproving stare that sends shivers down her spine and turns her blood sub-zero cold.

 

When the door closes with a soft _click_ – almost as if it were trying to comfort her – she closes her eyes and tries to remember how to breathe properly again, before reaching shakily into her handbag for her cell phone.

 

 

 

_[Orihara Izaya]_

_Starred contact_

_[Message]_

_[Facetime]_

_[Call]_

 

-.-.-

“Namie, speak louder, I can’t hear you.”

“What? Shiki-san?”

_“The head?”_

“Namie, _where are you_.”

“I’m coming over, stay there.”

 

Shinra watches, once again, how Izaya breaks out in a cold sweat, shaking fingers as he throws on his coat and his eyes show cold, hard fear.

-.-.-

 

_We’re going down,_

_(We’re tumbling into a warped reality,)_

_Look around,_

_(I can’t see a thing.)_

 

-.-.-

Thirteen – end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all.  
> Okay, ugh, uH  
> I might put this fic on a mini-hiatus, since I'm encountering a bitchy writers block for it, and maybe put up a few one-shots instead I guess //sigh  
> I'll try to get a few chapters written beforehand and the plot worked out a bit more before I post chapter 14  
> (Wow 13 really is an unlucky number huh?)
> 
> And also, some a you seem to be really interested in this AU (which makes me happy tbh) and so I don't mind if you guys want to write something for it. I'm all chill if you want to ask me haha :V  
> See you guys in a bit~


	14. Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blessed are the foolish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back (I think) and I'll be taking this story off hiatus, but updates will be slower than it used to be, since it's currently assignment-assessment period for me, and then I'll be away for the autumn holidays  
> bless australian school term arrangements  
> Also planned out the structure of the story, so I won't be pointlessly wandering around in my writing anymore and hoping I'll land somewhere if that reassures you all??

Fourteen

-.-.-

 

_There are many kinds of emotions in this world,_

_Threads of fate intermingle,_

_So chance meetings seem like fated encounters._

_(Isn’t that interesting?)_

 

-.-.-

“Shizuo?” Tom asks while taking a sip of his drink, “Is that your phone ringing?”

Shizuo glanced at his senior, before registering that his phone was indeed ringing – very obnoxiously.

It kind of reminds him of Izaya–

“Ah, right, sorry,” He grunts while his fingers scrounge around for the source of the ringing, and flips the screen up to press on the green button, “..Hello? Heiwajima here.”

“ _Heiwajima-san_ ,” The voice was deep, firm and unfamiliar, and sent a small series of chills down Shizuo’s spine, “Pleasure to meet – ah, perhaps not yet. Pleasure to talk to you.”

“Who is this?” The blonde’s voice dips lower, more cautiously as he catches the increasingly concerned glances of his co-workers, and gives them an ‘OK’ gesture,

“You may or may not know me,” A smirk could be heard even over the line, “But I’m terribly familiar with you. But I’ll jump straight to the point, I’d like to make a deal with you, Heiwajima-san.”

“Don’t patronize me or I’ll break your face.”

“You’re very smooth with your words, Heiwajima-san. But since you didn’t say no, I’m assuming you’re curious already. I’d like for us to meet face-to-face in person sometime. I will send an encrypted message to your email address, please be sure to read it-”

“-Wait, _what the fuck are you_ -”

“See you soon, Heiwajima-san.”

“Hey, _wait,_ you-!”

“Ah, and just another thing, please call me Shiki.”

 

_Click._

 

Shizuo glared down at the screen of the phone which he’s bending a little more by the second.

“ _What the fuck_.”

 

A message icon blinks temptingly at the top of his screen.

Couldn’t hurt to take a look, right?

-.-.-

Izaya made a small feral noise.

“ _What the fuck_.”

 

“What’s going on, Izaya?” Shinra taps his rigid friend on the shoulder half-impatient and half-worried, “..Something about a head?”

Izaya freezes, and Namie, on the couch behind them, clenches her fists.

“It’s nothing you need to know, Shinra,” Izaya singsongs as he stiffly twirls around, but, Shinra noticed grimly, he’s shaking. He’s shaking and he probably doesn’t even notice it.

“It’s everything I deserve to know,” Shinra half-whispers calmly, “You’re always keeping things from me. Don’t I deserve your trust?”

“No, Shinra, I-”

“Can it. I don’t need the lies that are already overflowing from that mouth of yours.”

Izaya says nothing in response to the doctor, only radiating passive-aggressive anger through his still form.

Shinra raises an eyebrow, then pinches his nose and breathes a heavy – too heavy – sigh. Izaya’s still as silent, and by the looks of it, has a million and one thoughts swimming around his mind. The air is heavy around the trio, filled to the brim with unanswered questions and doubt and ‘who, what, when, why’s’.

 

Shinra wearily looked like he wanted to crack the silence, the raw tension seeping into his bones something he’s all so not used to. He wasn’t the type to meddle too much with troublesome things, and in all honesty, he only stayed in his job to make a living. Frankly, it was dangerous, tiring and sapping away his time with Celty.

But even when he doesn’t seem to walk life as a tightrope like Shizuo or Izaya, maybe even Kadota, it doesn’t mean that he’s blind and deaf to everything that’s happening around him.

Two plus two was a no-brainer right now.

 

“Look, so how are we going to get my dear Celty’s head back?”

Namie and Izaya’s heads snap up instantaneously towards the tiredly-grinning doctor.

“What,” Izaya croaked, before dropping his head into his hands, “Fuck.”

“Hey, common sense, you know,” Shinra shot back sweetly and maybe just as drained in a matter of seconds.

-.-.-

_Heiwajima-san,_

_To have you open this message and to have read it possibly means that you are willing to accept the negotiation between us._

_I have ensured your wellbeing and security during the deal, therefore you mustn’t worry about influencing circumstances._

_As you may know by now, and so we will make it very brief to you, we, the Awakusu-Kai group, are very close acquaintances with a certain ‘friend’ of yours, and therefore you may as well ensure their safety by approaching us._

_Meeting place and time will be delivered in a separate email._

_Shiki._

-.-.-

“The Awakusu-Kai’s security isn’t simply to be underestimated,” Namie clicks her tongue, while her fingers tap wildly over the keyboard, the little clicks resounding throughout the room, “In fact, it’s better to overestimate it. We can’t take chances, if you’re found, it’s all game over, Izaya.”

“..Are we actually doing this?” Izaya barely managed a twitching grin, and eyed Namie’s laptop screen sceptically. Shinra gave him a jolting nudge in the rib, earning a sharp hiss from the informant, and a few half-hearted whines.

“Oh course, Izaya- _kun_ ,” Shinra drew out the last syllable mockingly, “Who else?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Izaya tapped a finger to his chin, and grinned, “You, maybe?”

“Oh please, you know what they’d do to me if they ever find out that I’ve tried to snoop around in their area, much less steal something. You’re the best informant they have, and the chances of you coming out alive and with about three limbs more than me or Yagiri-san are larger.”

Izaya laughed, “‘Chance’? Oh please, to them, we’re all tiny pieces for them to use. It’s like a chessboard, Shinra, have you ever considered? Me, you, Namie, even Shizu-chan, we’re all pieces for something, whether it’s ourselves, others, or the world. Some of us may have more value than others, like a queen piece and a pawn, but in the end, we are all still mere pieces to be played with, trying to survive as long as possible. Some sacrificed, others sacrifice. You could say the Awakusu is the player, taking more interest and therefore placing more protection on some of the pieces, and leaving others for the dead, but we’re all still under the possibility of being sacrificed for the greater good, whether we like it or not.”

“A greater good, huh?” Shinra hummed, “Do you believe that anything could really be ‘good?’”

Izaya regards the doctor with amused eyes, “Oh? Should we try to find out?”

Shinra grins with challenge written as clear as day, “Would you like to be my chess piece?”

“I knew you’d probably say something like that. What a great friend you are,” Izaya pouted.

“Now, now, Izaya-”

“You two,” Namie snaps, “I’ve managed to gather together the Awakusu’s pre-scheduled conferences and meetings for the next two days.”  
“Hm?”

“Oh? Why do we need to know this, Namie?”

“Because,” Namie answered her employer with a snarky grin, “Aren’t we breaking and entering?”

“Huh?” Shinra raised an eyebrow, “We are?”

The chocolate-haired woman scoffed, “Oh please, I doubt Shiki-sama would let Izaya in so easily in plain sight. That’s basically like holding a sign up in front of their quarters saying ‘interrogate me’. We’re going to need to take certain measures if we want a shot at getting the head back. For starters, going James Bond would be a good option A.”

“What about the other options?” Shinra raises his hands up in mock surrender while peering over at Izaya, who looked slightly pale. The doctor wonders if Izaya would be alright in this after all.

“We’ll wait and see,” Namie spins back to the screen, and begins scouring the details of each session the Awakusu meets with outside personnel. She frowns when Nebula’s name shows one or twice, but that, she decides, isn’t what she needs to focus specifically on right now. She mentally files a note to go through it later, as silence files into the room once more.

 

Sometimes, she’s never really thought of herself as a person who would help anyone, much less Izaya so willingly. It’s become so repentant in her mind that she may as well now consider it one of her scaringly scarce life morals. Maybe it’s karma, or fate, she supposes out of humanised curiosity. It’s probably what she needs to do to repay Izaya, because a small, still reasonable part of her knows that she owes all too much to the manipulative bastard for her own liking.

Somehow though, that train of thought isn’t as displeasing as she thought it would be to her. Maybe she knows that she deserves it, dipping her feet into the black mush of underground illegal crimes, until she’s ankle-deep, and maybe even sunken up to the knees.

It’s this freedom she tastes on her lips given by Izaya that, to her, is so sour and rotting yet bitter-sweet at the same time.

 

(“ _..Mock me_ ,” She sometimes whispers to the thin air, to the yesterday’s her, “ _I dare you_.”)

 

As her fingers prance onto the keys, swiftly and smoothly, she feels strangely at ease. No one’s trying to endanger her in any way, she has a method of making a living, even if slightly distasteful and crippling to the mind.

Yet, it’s also comforting to hear the endless rambles and vents coming near-daily from someone that is thankfully maybe just as desperate for a taste of sweet, sweet liberty from a spiralling mad world like theirs.

 

(Is it wrong to feel such contentment near such a despicable man?)

 

The two of them are very much alike upon closer inspection, Namie muses. Both of them despise their job, are tangled into threads of the underworld, and they’re seeking for a distant kind of excitement that may not even exist.

Like others.

 

(The boy who holds the gun.)

 

(The doctor pushing away everything for a mythical love..)

 

(..The man who despises violence..)

 

(“..And Izaya..”)

 

“.. _And me_ ,” She whispers, hushed words falling upon deaf ears.

Perhaps she’s finally accepted this part of himself.

(What would Seiji say about this?)

-.-.-

“Mikado-senpai..” Aoba’s blue eyes turn to the grey-eyed boy’s sitting figure, “What are you doing?”

A quiet, unmistakeable clack resounds sharply around them, as if substituting Mikado’s response instead. The boy looks up, unflinching and undaunted, as he calmly tucks the gun away, and smiles at Aoba.

“I’m sorry Aoba-kun, it must be late now, isn’t it?” He glances out towards the thundery sky, “I’m sure it’ll rain tonight. It’ll be best if you all go home for today.”

“Mikado-”

“Please,” The voice dives octaves, yet frosty smile still intact, and Aoba nearly jolts at the creeping chills rumbling through himself, “Go home.”

“Y-yes, Mikado-senpai,” He stumbles over his words, hands shaking and the world around him swaying as if in an earthquake.

_What is this?_

“Please get home safe,” Mikado only waves serenely, his voice smooth like warm honey.

Aoba instead, hears it brokenly.

-.-.-

“I’m sorry Kasuka, I’ve got to go somewhere on Friday. I can’t come to the signing. Next time?”

“ _It’s fine, nii-san, you can come next time. Please stay healthy._ ”

Shizuo heaves a sigh tinged with various apologies as he hangs up and sips at his cold milk. Normally, he never misses the chance to attend something like an event with his brother – discreetely, of course; who would want such a feared man spotted at such a public place – as Kasuka was one of the only people who could understand him without sharing too much words between one another, if any at all, even.

But right now, Kasuka won’t be able to help him if he himself doesn’t know what he’s feeling. His mind’s something like a mess, questions and thoughts and words of demand and hate scattered everywhere.

Meeting this Shiki guy shouldn’t be this fucking nerve wracking.

In his frustration, Shizuo makes a crack in his cup. He looks down and fervently swears, before cupping the glass as best as he could and transporting to over to the sink, where he can safely dump the milk in.

“What a waste,” He mumbles annoyed, “ _Tch_ , it’s like wasting brain cells on that Shiki guy as well.”

To speak the truth, Shizuo had lots on his mind, and it was an overly occupied sensation which he wasn’t used to. He liked to spend life peacefully – which in his book, also meant satisfyingly simple.

Yet, ironically, there are plenty of things – plenty of _people_ – out there which like to kick his life around that just aren’t _simple_.

_[You sound like you’re getting attached to him.]_

 

“Fuck,” He growls as he crushes the cup in his hands, and the larger shards shatter into the sink, while smaller ones impale themselves into Shizuo’s hand, "That fuckin' hurts like shit.."

 

He didn’t choose to be ‘attached’ to him, it was decided against his will, and it’s something he just can’t help, and, and.. and..

 

He’ll just make it simple, call it fate and end that thought there.

-.-.-

 

_But in all reality it looks like rain,_

_The ends of those threads melting away._

_The fair weather days are all in dreams,_

_(All imagined.)_

 

-.-.-

Fourteen – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure 99.9% of the reason this chapter is posted today is because ketsu episode 34 broke me  
> SHIZUO STOP TRYING TO KILL ~~YOUR WIFE~~ IZAYA YOU DUMBASS LOOK HOW HE'S LIMPING


	15. Blueprint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill your hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm VERy sorry for the chapter that is late by  
> uh two or three weeks?  
> I've had half of this chapter done in one sitting then I just had some fantastical magic writer's block shoot me through the head.  
> Yeah.  
> Also, I've edited the shit out of this fic, so that probably took up some time, which I've been meaning to do for a LONGG time, but didn't have the time and patience of mind to do so. I've only made major changes to the first few chapters or so, and there are basically zero changes to the main plot so don't worry children //laughs

Fifteen.

-.-.-

_Ah… All about me,_

_Is a mountain of concrete and rubble._

_The utter chaos of it,_

_Is like the set of a movie made in bad taste._

-.-.-

_‘When in doubt, ignore it as best as you can.’_

That was one of Shizuo’s life mottos.

Well, used to be. Now though, he’s having a seriously hard time trying to refigure out if some things just can’t be ignored anyways. Shizuo was never the type of person to get involved in overly complicated things, like shady underground businesses, social standings and reputations, and love.

A frown undoubtedly made its subtle way onto his face when he came to that last thought. Love? It sounds strange – foreign, when he rolls the syllables on his tongue slowly. He loved Kasuka, surely, and Tom-san, Vorona, Celty and maybe even Shinra, just a little bit, but why did the word still sound so peculiar to him?

It’s slightly fascinating, actually, how he can be so absorbed into by a single word. There’s different kinds of love, Shizuo muses. Sibling love, platonic, affectionate, romantic..

Ah.

Maybe that’s why it’s bugging him like so.

What does romantic love feel like?

In the books he’s read and Shinra’s enthusiastic descriptions, people blush.. uh, their heartbeat speeds up, maybe their ears turn red… ah..

“Fuck,” Shizuo vehemently curses under his breath and rubs his temples, “Where was that guy’s address again?” He’s fully aware now about how he was wondering aimlessly around the city, swimming in thoughts, and now he’s ended up back in his neighbourhood. Shizuo grunts and digs out his phone from his pocket in his bartender suit. What else could he wear?

His eyes flicker over the message twice, to let the words soak in, before clumsily locating the power off button and slipping the phone back into his pocket.

In his mind, his previous thoughts were whitewashed by the last line of the message.

 

_Come if you wish to value Orihara-kun’s safety._

-.-.-

“ _Here_ ,” Namie points a finger at a certain area on the digital blueprint, “This is where you should enter the ventilation pipe.”

Shinra squinted behind thick prescription lenses, then blinked, “But that’s inside the actual quarters, Izaya would have to get in first.”

“Exactly.”

“So Namie,” Izaya coughs, not exactly seeing the point, “Are you saying we should find a way to infiltrate the place first?”

Namie send a knowing smirk, “That’s right. From my guesses, the head may be kept somewhere in the back storage rooms used to keep guns and ammo, or the vaults. You’re going to travel through the pipes until you reach the vent and then-”

“But what about the security cameras?” Shinra blurted out. Namie sighed and pointed to an area of the screen with a red circle, positioned near a corner, “Their computerized security isn’t exactly top notch. I’m sure I can find a way to break through the coding and firewalls to access the cameras and we’ll see if we need them from there.”

“Ah..”

“Smart, Namie-san,” Izaya laughed, “But the vent pipes are internal right? How am I going to convince the guards on getting in without Shiki-san or one of the others seeing me?”

“You don’t.”

“Huh?” Izaya blinked at the snap response. Namie merely swivelled around her office chair to face the computer again, and opened a new tab, “Not as _you_ , anyways.”

“Oi, oi..”

 Namie copy-pasted a link from a separate document into the search bar, and after a few curious seconds, a PDF appeared, white and blank, with only black block letters adorning it.

“..Hey,” Shinra mutters, “Aren’t they the people who are scheduled to have a meeting with some of the executives?”

“Bingo,” Namie grinned, “What do you say, Izaya? Any of them look like you?” She opened up four more tabs, each entered with a search query of the client’s names. Pictures after pictures showed up one after the next.

“Takahashi Mori, the guy who manufactures flash grenades?” Izaya snorted, “Too buff, he looks more like Shizu-chan instead of me.”

“Oh?” Namie raised an eyebrow and resisted a smirk – Izaya probably wasn’t even aware that he was mentioning Shizuo, “Then this guy?”

“Err..” Shinra struggled with his pronunciation, “J.. Jounasan Owxwell?”

“Jonathan Oxwell,” Izaya corrected in English, then switched back to Japanese, “A foreigner. He occasionally dips his fingers in things like wildlife poaching.”

“Correct.”

“Too tall, and his skin tone is too hard to recreate from mine, not to mention the faced shape.” Hearing that, Namie continues to the third tab.

“Yamaguchi Yuu, human trafficator, with a side job of live organ harvesting,” Izaya crinkled his nose slightly at recalling the last part, “Flabby guy, even shorter than me.”

“Oh-ho?” Shinra’s smile was face splitting, “You make it sound like you’re short.”

“Watch it, Shinra. You’re the same height as me,” Izaya laughed, “You sound like you think I’m the type to walk up to someone random and scream ‘Evaporate, tall person!’”

“Yeah well-”

“You two,” Namie sounded like she was ready to fling a fit, “Come here.”

Izaya’s smile melted off from his face like wax, “That’s a woman,” he deadpanned, “Sakimoto Aki.”

“Yes, she’s a woman,” Namie sounded bored, like she expected her employer to know exactly what she’s trying to get across in minimum words possible, “But look, she’s your height, has your complexion and her hair’s only a shade lighter than yours.”

“Namie..”

“Flat-chested too, looks like an AA cup. Isn’t she perfect for impersonation?”

Izaya opened his mouth to speak, but Shinra – _being the motormouth he is_ , Izaya gritted – beat him to the point, “That’s great! I’ll finally win the bet me and Kadota made back in high school-!”

Izaya whipped his head back at Shinra with a terrifyingly homicidal smile, “Oh? Perhaps, was your bet concerning me in a dress?”

“A-ah, Izaya, hahaha..” Shinra immediately realised his mistake and drew back, “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Izaya replied, slightly miffed, but he decided that he could worry more about vivisecting Shinra and Kadota later, “For now, what does she do? I haven’t seen her much before.”

“Japanese-born, but raised in England. Fairly new to underground activities, you’re going to have to act reserved but sharp. Has an eye for details.”

“Ah, I can manage that.”

“Oh?” Namie quirked an eyebrow, “But you are aware what woman usually wear to formal encounters-”  
“ _A dress-!_ ” Shinra half-squeaked half-chirped.

-.-.-

“Yes, that’s fine,” He smiles, fingers caressing the smooth black metal as he speaks into his phone with ease, “I’ll arrange for a meeting on Sunday, around four, is that alright?”

_“That’s fine, Tanaka-san. I’ll have men waiting for you. Please do be on time.”_

“Will do.”

The phone hangs up and the only sound left in the room is the steady patter of rain, drumming persistently on the windows.

-.-.-

“Alright, here,” Namie points out with a manicured nail, “This is the vent. The camera over here won’t be able to see you if you press close to the opposite wall. Of course, they’re the cliché movie types and have automatic rotating heads. And here,” She points to an entirely different area altogether, and overlays the transparent blueprint of the vent pipes over the building layout, “Is the place where the head is more likely to be kept. Go through the pipe on A6 to down to D3 and there should be a vent where you can unscrew,” She points to the corner of the room, with a white square, “Here.”

“I see,” Izaya commits the map to memory and continues, “So I’m going to be wearing something to communicate with you two, right?”

“Right,” Shinra nods, “I’ll see if I can get my dad to lend me some earpieces. He probably won’t mind – or know,” He adds.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing~!”

Namie cleared her throat, “Right, so Sakimoto-san is going to meet the Awakusu in two days-”

“Wait, is she?”

“ _Sakmoto-san is going to meet the Awakusu in two days_ ,” Namie states clearer and obviously pissier, “And we’re going to have to get preparations, plans, personalities – everything right. No gaps.”

“Wait,” Izaya hummed, “Are you sure only the three of us are fine?”

“Got a backup plan?”

“Well, yeah,” Izaya sends one of his signature grins stretching ear to ear, “This is coming from the guy you, dear secretary, nicknamed ‘the man who has backups for his backups.’”

“Oh please,” Namie butted in, “Stop referring to me as your secretary as long as we’re in this situation. Please do be a bit more respectful to the person who organizes paperwork for two, researches client profiles for you and cooks dinner for you because you once lodged a knife in the microwave because it reminded you of Heiwajima.”

“Excuse me, Namie- _san_ , but did you just say-”

Shinra _, bless him_ , Namie thinks, suddenly wacks Izaya on the back, and laughs a bit too forcefully, “Yes, yes, Izaya, we all know that you love picking fights with Yagiri-san because she’s the closest you’ll ever have to a normal _humanly_ platonic relationship. Now then, back to the backups – are we sure that us three will suffice?”

“Ah,” Namie puts a hand to her chin, “That may be true. What if something happens?”

“But we’ve got to keep this to a minimum amount of people possible,” Shinra points out, “Something like ‘ _too many chefs ruin the lasagne_ ’.”

“They’re making a _broth_.”

“Same, same, as long as it’s not made by my Celty dearest-” There was a dreamy sigh, “-It’s all the same.”

“Sheesh,” Namie turns away, and towards Izaya, who, somewhere along the line, started calling someone on one of his many phones.

 

“What, of course it’s me! Now listen here.. You’re going to… Yes, yes, that’s right, Kida-kun.. _What?_ Of course this is going to your pay, silly, Saki’s as well. Just come and then I’ll explain to you. See you, tomorrow, then.”

 

Namie raises an eyebrow, “Blonde kid?”

“That’s the one,” Izaya laughs, “Let’s wait for now.”

-.-.-

_(I’m alone, I’m alone.)_

(I don’t want this, I don’t like this.)

**(I don’t understand.)**

_(Why doesn’t anyone appreciate me?)_

(Why is this happening to me.)

**(Why don’t I know?)**

**(Why.)**

_(Why.)_

**(Why.)**

(Stop.)

-.-.-

Izaya wakes up in a cold sweat, heavy breathing and a rapid heartbeat.

 _Shit,_ he thinks, _it’s happening again._

It hasn’t even been two days, yet Izaya feels like it’s only been an hour. He sits, up, looks around out of sheer habit and reaches over to his watch.

“Ah,” He says to no one in particular, “It’s only five.”

Realising that he wouldn’t get much more sleep than this, he gets up and stretches, accompanied by a yawn.

 

Showered and dressed, Izaya pads his way downstairs in search of some basic sustenance – like coffee. As it’s brewing, he sighs, _will they ever be useful for anything?_

The doorbell interrupts his thoughts as he switches off the machines, and with quick finger-comb of his hair and a grumble of ‘who is this that’s so early’, he opens the door.

The first thing Masaomi _oh-so-subtly_ pointed out was-

“You look like shit.”

“Why thank you, Masaomi-kun. Come in.”

-.-.-

“Did you even sleep last night?” Namie scoffs, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. In reply, Izaya grins easily towards her, but there was a lingering tint of drowsiness hidden behind pearly whites.

“But seriously, Orihara-kun,” Shinra throws in his five cents, and Izaya purses his lips at the formal honorifics, “You need to stay healthy, at least for these few days, because you’re the main man, you know that, right? Did anything happen last night?”

“No,” Izaya bit his lip, lying a bit too quickly, “Nothing happened.”

“Liar,” Masaomi pointed out, “You bite your lower lip when you lie.”

“Sheesh, since when were you ever so observant?”

“Since you.”

“Well, then, I must have been a very influential figure in your life, ne?”

Masaomi only glares sharply in return and says nothing.

 

So, what’s the plan of action, captain?”

Of course the remark was meant to be sarcastic when paired up with a raised eyebrow directed at Izaya, but as always, Namie’s efforts were usually futile or ignored.

“Well, then,” Izaya takes a deep breath, “Shall we take a look at Sakimoto-san’s profile?”

-.-.-

Two days later-

“Ah?” Erika jumps suddenly, “Isn’t that Mikachin?”

“Where? Mikado?”

“Over there in the blue jacket,” Kadota says simply, pointing to an area near an alleyway.

“Oh! It is..” Erika trails off, “What’s he doing?”

Walker, next to them, leans forward and squints even more (which, frankly, Kadota doesn’t even want to know how anymore), and states, “Should we follow him? What if he’s in trouble? Ah, this is like that time where Kirito and Asuna-”

“Maybe,” Saburo cuts Walker’s sentence clean off, “But I doubt it would be any of our business. Maybe he’s just going to meet one of his friends.”

Erika stares back at the driver with doubtful eyes, “Do you really think so?”

“…” Saburo closes his eyes, “..No.”

“Then let’s go! My two-dimensional senses are tingling that something’s stirring! Onwards, ho!” Walker points, and Saburo reluctantly starts up the engine and mutters under his breath, “Sheesh, just this once, okay? We’re only staying for a bit to check on him.”

-.-.-

Right leg in, left leg in, pull up, arm through the sleeves–

_(What’s this, finally wearing the dress? Do you need help?)_

 

 _\- fuck._  
“No,” Izaya promptly replied, “I don’t. Stay out of this.”

 

_(Spoilsport.)_

 

**(You should give her a chance.)**

 

“Why should I?” He spits, more venomous than intended.

 

**_(…)_ **

 

Izaya sighs, “Do you even know how to wear one?”

 

_(Of course~! Do you wanna see?)_

 

“Not sure if I do.”

“Maybe.”

-.-.-

“Oi, Izaya, you done yet?” Masaomi raps on the door, impatience flaring by the second, “Oi! I’m coming in!”

 

“Bakyura-kun? Geez, that’s an invasion of privacy! Don’t you have any modesty?” Kanra screeches, and Masaomi stumbles back and bumps into the doorway, hissing in pain while he was at it, and Kanra chucks a make-up brush at the blonde boy’s head to top it off.

“Ow!”

“Sheesh, Bakyura-kun, now would you mind helping me with opening the foundation here?”

“What the hell, Kanra! Don’t suddenly do that!”

“Well, of course I can! Is there some rule that I have to tell you or something beforehand, hm?”

“Well, a sign or some shit would be plenty nice!” Masaomi wailed, taking the foundation and uncapping it before offering it back, cocking an eyebrow, “You know how to.. you know, use make-up?”

“Uh, duh,” Kanra almost snorted, her brown-black wig brushing on her shoulder lightly and daintily, and her grin full of real, genuine mirth that was so unlike Izaya’s, “Well, of course,” She cooed, “I’m modelled after a female’s personality after all - Oh!” Her eyes held a dangerously playful glint in them, “You say that you’re a lady-killer, huh? Care to.. show me?”

Masaomi leaned back like backing away from a particularly venomous snake slithering towards him, and swallowed loudly, “Well, I could, but-”

Kanra let out a boisterous laugh, “ _But_ ,” She drawls out the word like she’s savouring it, “There’s always a ‘but’ in whatever you humans want to attempt at. Well, I can’t say that I don’t see your point, I _am_ technically still Izaya, after all~”

“Whatever,” Masaomi huffs after a few seconds of silence, “Hurry up, we still need time to set up the communication signal, and we need to test it out with you.”

“Sure, sure, _Bakyura-kun_ , I’ll be there in a few.”

 

When Masaomi closes the door with an obvious click behind him, he lifts a hand up to his face and wonders why it’s so fucking _hot_ in here.

-.-.-

“Shizu-chan,” There was an obnoxious laugh, like a scraping against a blackboard, yet also sweet like warm honey, and Shizuo stops in the midst of uprooting yet another stop sign, before the first class even begins, _“What if,”_ The raven trills, “You wake up one morning, and you find out that everything you’ve ever known, ever felt, ever seen, had been a dream?”

“Finish talking before I smash your shitty head in.”

“Ah, so violent~” Izaya dodges a stray piece of the pavement ripped out along with the sign, “Just hear me out, okay?”

“There’s nothing good that ever comes out of that shitty mouth of yours,” Shizuo growled, but gracefully had enough patience to wait. What if Izaya wanted him to come closer deliberately so that he could do something?

“Well, take a look around,” Izaya’s pasted grin was still in motion, and it irked Shizuo to absolutely no end, “What do you see?”

Shizuo grunts. “Cars, signs, people and,” The last word comes out more angrily than the others, “ _You_.”

“And the people closest to you?”

Well, Izaya already knows, so it couldn’t hurt to tell him. Shizuo _is_ curious about where this is going, though.

“Kasuka, Tom-san, Vorona, Celty, Shinra..” He checked off his mental list, “Akane, uh..”

Izaya raised his hands in mock surrender, eyebrows furrowed lightly, “Okay, okay, I get you, please stop now.”

Shizuo raised his eyebrow and shifted the sign from one hand to another, defence still high, “Why? And tell me what the point of this is before I beat you to a pulp.”

“Your threats are _so~o_ unoriginal, did you know?” The other smirked, “Well, I’m just placing you in a scenario, but you wake up one day to find yourself in, let’s say, a war, and everything you’ve ever known has been in your dream – a lie. Now, wouldn’t that be fascinating?”

“You’re messed up,” Shizuo gritted surveying the arched eyebrows, the flutter of Izaya’s leather jacket and the twinkle of his eyes when he’s discussing the various theories and scenarios amongst himself.

Shizuo finds it almost endeari-

The stop sign snaps.

“Oi, oi, Shizu-chan, what, did I confuse you so much that you lost a couple million brain cells?” Izaya coos, but keeps his distance, ready to flee at any time, “Well, the sooner you can turn into one of these mindless monsters, the better, right?”

“…”

“Shizu-chan?”

“Iza-yaaa-kunnnn…” Shizuo screams, and flings half of the now mutilated sign at the raven-haired boy, who effortlessly evades it with a growing grin.

 

Upstairs, Shinra sighs as he sees his two best friends, once again, begin to fight like kittens.

“When will they ever get around to admitting it,” He grumbles, and Kadota, next to him, laughs along.

-.-.-

 

_Ah… I am dreaming?_

_What a terrible, terrible dream this is._

_From somewhere I felt as if I heard the voice of someone or thing…_

_Laughing at me._

 

-.-.-

Fifteen – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WILL IZAYA PULL OFF THE STUNT IN A DRESS?  
> WILL NAMIE EVER BE NOT IN DENIAL?  
> WILL THEY SUCCESSFULLY JAMES-BOND THE AWAKUSU AND SNATCH THE HEAD LIKE BAMFS?
> 
> yeah i should stop


	16. Infilterate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We live in a materialist world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was meant to be at least another few hundred words longer buuuut-

Sixteen.

-.-.-

 

_ When it became twisted, _

_ It became serious, _

_ But is that a proof of liking? _

_ Because I hate it when you lie to me, _

_ It’s such an explosive irony. _

 

-.-.-

“You’re going to need these,” Namie shoves a handbag of miscellaneous items towards Kanra, who stumbles in her red heels. She eyes Namie, before unzipping the faux-leather bag to inspect the contents.

There’s a lipstick that catches her eye first. Taking it into her hand, she uncaps it.

“Ooh, smoke bomb, right?” She laughs.

Namie corrects her with a smirk, “Not necessarily a bomb, just releases smoke. Dozens of it.”

“Cosmetics?”

“Lycopodium powder. Fingerprint powder.”

“Well, isn’t this all so fancy,” Kanra grinned, eyeing all the other gadgets but choosing not to inquire too much in favour of time.

 

“Oi, got to get to the pick-up point, twenty minutes,” Masaomi called out, “ _ Hurry up.” _

“What about Sakimoto?”

Shinra pokes his head from around the corner, a smile laced with mischief prancing on his lips, “Drugged and two days memory wiped~ She’s already moved to the hotel.”

“Great, we’re going then, Iza-chan says. Mi-chan’s driving, alright?”

_ “What-” _

-.-.-

“Heiwajima-san,” Shiki chuckles dryly - and Shizuo could already tell that this was going to be a long day, “A pleasure meeting you.”

“Not really.”

Shiki chose to ignore that remark, instead opting to fold his arms and look over to his men, and snapped his fingers twice.

“I’ll get to the point then, I suppose,” He said, flexing his fingers. A small smirk is played along his lips, not entirely tangible but definitely there. It irks Shizuo to some degree, which, well, is coming pretty damn close to the level where his anger really can’t be contained unless Tom or Vorona were nearby. Instead, he growls, low and barely noticeable, but Shiki takes it as a sign to continue.

“Heiwajima Shizuo.” Oh, look, he’s got Shizuo’s attention now, “Twenty three years old, graduated from Raijin, currently working as a bodyguard for Tanaka Tom, alongside Vorona as a co-worker. One younger sibling, Heiwajima Kasuka-” That earned a furrow of brows and a low hiss, “Arch-enemy of Orihara Izaya,” There goes another stick of his patience, “And most noticeably in platonic relationships with Kishitani Shinra and Sturluson Celty.”

 

There was silence afterwards, then Shizuo cleared his throat and glared scathingly, not liking how this guy had so much information on him without him knowing, “And? Your point?”

 

Shiki’s smile was instantaneous. 

“Just how far would you go for your ‘friends’?”

-.-.-

Akabayashi was the one to pick ‘Sakimoto’ up, surprisingly.

“Sakimoto-san,” He smiled, one eye twinkling with what Izaya  _ knows _ is deceptive warmth. But Akabayashi’s closer to a fox rather than a tiger, and knows better than to make impulsive movements, especially to a foreign visitor, so the situation is still under control for now.

He hopes.

 

“Ah, Akabayashi-san, was it?” Kanra smiles politely, and Izaya cringes at the pitch of his own voice Kanra’s pushing it up to, “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

_ “Act more reserved, don’t try to initiate conversations,” _ Namie advised Kanra through the earpiece, and Kanra refused the urge to pout, as the yakuza held open the door of the car for her.

 

“So, Sakimoto-san,” Akabayashi whistled, “Tell me about yourself.”

_ Oh man, _ Kanra thought,  _ is he trying to hit me up or- _

“21 years old,” Namie’s voice once again crackled through the earpiece, “Has an interest in clay-pigeon shooting, likes takoyaki, small things to keep the conversation.”

Kanra parroted exactly what she said, and Akabayashi looked thoughtful.

“Clay-pigeon shooting?” He looked interested, “Never tried it. Is it fun?”

 

Namie sighed against her ear.

-.-.-

“There’s a  _ pin-code _ ,” Izaya half-screams, half-whispers into the mic. Blended into the background of the communication device, Namie screeches, “Well of course we’ll need a fucking  _ pin-code _ , we’re talking yakuza’s here-!”

 

“Shit, alright, I’ll see what I can do.” Seconds afterwards, Shinra’s hiss reverberated into Izaya’s ear, followed by the tapping of keys and clicks, and he winced, but pulled on his gloves and rapidly began to inspect the simple number-pad.

_ Oh, right, I need to use the cosmetic dust, _ he grimaced, as he dusted a thin layer of white dust over the keys, revealing a flurry of fingerprints on a few specific keys. 

He scanned each key, frowning even more. How the fuck is he supposed to-

 

**(One.)**

 

“Hm? Why one?” Izaya narrowed his eyes and whispered in suspicion – because by the looks of the precision of the typing of the pin, if he even typed one number wrong, the whole place could go up in flames for all he knew, “ _ Oi _ , Chrome, tell me.”

 

**(That button’s worn out faster than the others. Normally, a person would have to press the first digit with more pressure to activate the recollection for the other digits.)**

 

Izaya grinned, “I see, not bad.”

With a press and a beep, Namie suddenly exploded into his ear with a shout, “What was that!?”

“Namie-san _ , Namie-san _ ,” Izaya hissed, eyes looking left and right for any passer-by’s, which there were thankfully none at the moment. He thought it was actually slightly strange, with the lack of guards flittering about –  _ especially _ if there was a fairly new guest roaming about, but he’d save that thought for later-

 

**(Five. There’s an imprint coming from the ‘one’ button sliding towards ‘five.’)**

 

_ Beep. _

 

“Oi, oi, Izaya,  _ Izaya _ ,” Shinra was borderline shrieking at that point, “What do you think you’re  _ doing _ ? Yagiri-san and I need to figure that out for you, go look out for the guards!”

“No need,” The raven-haired grinned, “We’ve got this.”

_ “We?” _

 

**(Seven-)**

 

“And why not nine?” Izaya cocked an eyebrow at the two remaining digits, both littered with fingerprints.

 

**(Think about it, they’d need to get into the storage quickly, then come back out again as fast as possible to minimize risks. They’d most likely set the passcode to something quick and connected, and it’ll throw intruders off because they’ll expect a complex passcode for a complicated organization like-)**

 

“Alright, alright, you got me.”

Two beeps sounded, and Izaya jumped back slightly in his medium heels, before peering at the tiny screen with computerized letters.

 

_ (Shit, what-) _

 

**(Calm down, it's green-)**

 

“Shinra, I’m in.”

He got Namie’s hushed voice instead, “What the actual fuck-“

“I got in,” Izaya replied instantaneously, before he looked around and slid into the storage room, “Don’t bother with the passcode, and keep the security cameras under control instead if there’s any guards.”

_ “Ah, sheesh, fine, Kishitani-sensei, stop what you’re doing, help me out over here. Kida, keep communication online. I’m getting aspirin for my damn headache.” _

_ “Right away, sir!” _ Was Shinra’s muffled reply in the background.

 

Inside, the room was dark, of course, with a damp, mildewy smell that makes Izaya want to sneeze. There was an air of heaviness around him, like a blanket, and each step he took with the heels felt like a clap of thunder.

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s here,” Izaya sniffed, looking around and trying to talk as quietly as he could, which wasn’t particularly easy, considering that it echoes in here.

_ “Really? Check around a bit more. Maybe take some pictures with your cell phone or something,” _ Shinra mumbled,  _ “Is there any-” _

 

Silence.

 

“..Shinra? Oi, Shinra?” Izaya fiddled with the earpiece, then turned back to face the doorway, only to find, well, the door closed.

Izaya cursed under his breath, and knowing that the door will be locked anyways even if he tries to pull it, and it’ll also attract unnecessary attention from anyone walking nearby.

 

“Timed lock, huh?”

 

**(Communication’s cut, probably no signal in here.)**

 

_ (Ahh, sheesh, are there any air vents in here then?) _

 

That snapped Izaya’s attention back, as he tried to look for the tell-tale signs of a vent somewhere-

 

There.

 

“Found it,” He hissed, stalked over and began working on it with Namie’s screwdriver he found in his handbag. The screws came loose easily from what looked like rust and the vent fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

_ “Shit.” _

 

The vent was, unsurprisingly, damp and filled with a musky, expired smell which Izaya couldn’t quite put a finger to. He could barely fit into the confined area, and had to crouch down to move uncomfortably – even then, his back was still scraping along the top of the vent, and it’s making him increasingly claustrophobic by the second.

Izaya swore suddenly when he heard the storage room slam open, probably the work of one of the guards, and the shuffling of feet. A few mumbles were heard here and there.

_ “Probably from.. rust.. old anyways.” _

_ “..Check to make sure.” _

_ “Yes sir.” _

Whatever lucky stars there were, Izaya thanked them as he rounded a corner as soon as the blinding beam of light from what was presumably a strong flashlight shone down the long passageway, and waved from right to left and back again in an attempt to scan for anything foreign.

“The vents are too small for an adult anyways, so don’t bother,” A gruff voice echoed down the vent.

 

_ (Excuse you..!) _

 

**(Izaya’s unnaturally scrawny anyways, so-)**

 

Ignoring all offhand remarks and what’s starting to feel like the top end of an aching headache from the stress he’s carrying  _ everywhere _ , Izaya was determined to reach either another exit or to Shiki’s office where the possibility that the dullahan head is being kept there is growing by the second.

_ “D3 to G9..” _ He mumbled, already memorized the route earlier and careful to keep his voice down.

-.-.-

“..That’s Celty’s  _ head _ .”

“Correct.”

Surprisingly, his anger doesn’t flare up uncontrollably like he expects it to. “Why?”

A beat of silence.    
“‘Why’, and not ‘how’?” Shiki remarks, obviously amused, “I like you. You’re  _ different _ .”

“And  _ you’re _ trying to provoke me,” Shizuo states in return, eyes still glued to the head floating in the large jar, like he’s trying to contemplate whether it’s real or not.

 

He knows it’s because he’s scared.

 

There’s questions everywhere, and voices in his head screaming to  _ do something _ , because he knows that Celty’s been searching for that for years, and yet, right now and right here, it’s in front of him, seemingly mocking him even with its eyes closed and mouth shut and without consciousness. 

Why is he so calm, then?

 

_ “What if everything you’ve ever known was a dream?” _

 

That brings back Shizuo’s focus like a flash of lightning.

“What.. did you just say?”

 

Shiki breathed through his nose.

“What if everything you’ve ever known was a dream, Heiwajima-san?”

 

He’s heard that phrase before.

But where?

Books, movies, television, signs, Vorona’s monotone lectures, anger-management leaflets, school, no, no, no,  _ none of these- _

 

Shiki opens his mouth.

_ “Orihara Izaya.” _

Shizuo’s mind strikes a blank.

“What if he was a lie.”

-.-.-

 

_ We didn’t keep anything from each other, _

_ But seems like we had to be mysterious. _

_ Think that’s contradiction? _

_ You want food for thought? _

_ What explosive irony. _

 

-.-.-

Sixteen – end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta for this chapter [Pi-chan/dayisntnight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dayisntnight/pseuds/dayisntnight) ahHHH

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Kudos are ALWAYS appreciated :')))


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